


Lojacked

by Desirae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Canon-Typical Violence, Detective Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Guidance Counselor Dean Winchester, Hostage Situations, Humor, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel, Rating: NC17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: When Detective Castiel Novak relocated from Chicago to Vermont to be closer to his widowed brother Jimmy, and niece, Claire, he didn’t know quite what to expect. Certainly, Cas never imagined he would find the love of his life in Angel Valley’s cozy little local bar, dressed in chainmail and tights. Yet, it’s been five years since Castiel said I do to high School guidance counselor Dean Winchester, and not a day has passed where he didn’t count his blessings.Until the unthinkable happened.Days away from an anniversary trip promising to consist of nothing but incredible sex, food, and slumber, Dean and one of his students is taken hostage. Now, with the help of his partner, Gabriel, it was up to Castiel to swallow down his terror and find a way to rescue young Jack and his beloved husband.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 304
Collections: DCBB 2020, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Here's my contribution to this year's DCBB. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to our amazing mods for all you do to put this whole thing together.
> 
> XOXO and many thanks to LanaSerra for beta-ing, it was so appreciated. Please check out her fabulous Destiel fics [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanaSerra/pseuds/LanaSerra). Love to my teapot/parabatai Bek for test driving this story, as per usual, and making sure I stayed on track <3
> 
> A ginormous thank you to my artist, Eliza_Avalo, for the gorgeous artwork. Find their art [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609248)

Dean Winchester whistled while he rinsed out his coffee cup and looked out the kitchen window. The hummingbird feeder he put up was starting to get popular, and he made a mental note to refill it with a new batch of sugar water before he and Cas left for their vacation.

Dean took a thermos out of the dish drainer and filled it with coffee, adding sugar and cream to make it light and sweet. He also packed a sandwich baggy with a decent amount of some trail mix crap he knew was only in the house because of his brother’s influence. Dean placed it, along with an apple and yogurt, in a small lunch sack and left it on the kitchen island. Cas only really snacked while on duty, saving big meals for when he could share them with Dean.

Dean could hear the shower going, and grinned to himself as he thought of its occupant, lathered and slippery under the water's hot spray. Detective Castiel Novak, Dean’s husband of five years, made quite the distraction, even when he wasn’t in the room. Usually, Dean wouldn’t stop himself from calling up Cas' image, soapy and flushed; dark hair turned near black under the water, drops sluicing down his skin, and skirting that perfect dark freckle, one tongue swipe from his nipple- _Nope. No time for fantasies._ Too much shit to do, he reminded himself sadly.

It was Dean’s turn to monitor Saturday in-school suspension, or ISS for short, which at least meant he could dress casually. Dean hated wearing dress slacks and a tie, and he took full advantage of his reprieve by wearing his boots and jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee-shirt overlayed with his favorite red flannel. 

Today’s ISS included the usual suspects and a few new names he was surprised to see on the list handed to him yesterday— _namely his niece Claire_ —by principal Crowley. Dean worked as a High School Guidance Counselor, a role he had never seen himself in when he started as a middle school gym teacher.

It wouldn’t be too bad. Castiel had one more shift before their flight left for Bali on Monday, and if he made Cas late, then _he’d_ be late, and they both had last-minute details they needed to take care of before the car service to the airport came to get them at the godforsaken hour of four am. One of the details being the prescription of Xanax so Dean could fly—something he hated to do and never would do if it weren’t for Cas—without an embarrassing meltdown. Spring break was only a week, but it was also Dean and Castiel’s anniversary, so they would be gone for two, and it would be spent in the same private bungalow, surrounded by flowers they’d had on their honeymoon. Dean could hardly believe they’d been married five years already, he thought with amazement, looking down at his wedding ring. At the beginning of their relationship, their families called them rash and impulsive for getting engaged after only two months of dating. They were even more shocked when Dean and Castiel revealed that they would be getting married the following month when Dean was on Spring break. But, as they had explained to their families when breaking the news, when you know, you know.

_“Honey, it’s not that we don’t want you to be happy, because we do,” Aunt Ellen said. “Cas is great—” she switched her focus to Cas, ”You’re great, Cas, we love you, but it’s just so soon.”_

_Dean observed the family and friends they had gathered together for a bonfire and some news. There were Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bobby, his brother Sam, his father John, his wife Kate, and their fifteen-year-old son Adam who, along with Cas’ niece Claire, had been appointed the official S’ mores makers. Then, his best friends Charlie, Jo, and Benny, and Castiel’s partner at the police station Gabriel Milton. Last but not least was Jimmy. Cas’ identical twin and best friend._

_“See, guys, the thing is? We’re not asking for your permission,” Dean said, not unkindly, but firm. “Your concerns are noted and appreciated, but it’s not going to change our minds,” Dean smiled at Cas gently when the man lifted their joined hands to kiss Dean’s knuckles. “I’m not interested in going through some kind of trial period when I already know Cas is who I’m supposed to be with. I love him now, and I’ll love next month, next year, the next five years, hell, however many we’re lucky enough to get together, is how long I’m going to love him._

_“Dean, if that’s true, why the rush? Is this because you’re thirty-five now?” Sammy asked, but Castiel answered as Dean was too busy laughing and shaking his head._

_“Because when you’re lucky enough to find the one you love, who miraculously loves you back? You want to rush. Because life is short,” Cas’ eyes lingered on Bobby, John, and Jimmy, who all knew excruciatingly well how accurate that phrase was. “We never know how much time we have on this earth, and whatever time we do have, Dean and I want to spend it together, as husbands.”_

They were wed in a small church ceremony. Dean could take or leave religion, but his husband was a faithful believer. Dean would have been happy getting married in Vegas by a fat Elvis at the Hunka Hunka Burning Love wedding chapel if it meant he got to call Castiel, his husband. Instead, it was a small, but joyous affair shared with close family and friends, with vows they had written themselves, spoken while tears ran unabashedly down his face. 

_They stood, face to face, hands interlaced, and eyes shining with pure joy._

_“I am my beloved’s,” Castiel said, voice gravel-laced and strong._

_“And my beloved is mine,” Dean said, with surety._

_“I will walk with you, as your lover and protector; the angel over your shoulder,” Castiel vowed._

_“And I will hold your hand, and your heart, forever, and keep it safe from harm,” Dean promised._

_“I vow to kiss you every day with love and devotion,” Castiel said, reaching up to thumb away Dean’s tears._

_“And I vow to embrace you every night, with my heart open and full,” Now it was Dean’s turn to wipe away tears, and Castiel huffed a soft laugh._

_“I can’t promise to solve all of your problems,” Castiel said, and Dean smiled softly._

_“But I can promise you won’t have to face them alone,” Dean said solemnly._

_“Forever you will be,” they spoke in unison, “the love of my life, my person, my soulmate.”_

It had been the happiest day of Dean’s life, and since then, it had only gotten better.

Feeling his stomach rumbling, Dean roused himself from his sappy musings and opened the freezer. Unlike Castiel’s healthy eating habits, Dean had decided to microwave a Jimmy Dean sausage biscuit for breakfast, which he ate standing up while chugging a glass of orange juice. Dean heard the shower stop and pulled a mug from the cabinet, knowing Cas would one want a fresh cup at home before he left to pick up his partner. Dean sliced open a honey wheat bagel and put it in the toaster before fishing out the strawberry cream cheese tub from the refrigerator. The thought of the sweetness made Dean’s teeth ache, but Castiel liked it, and who was he to deny him anything?

Dean could smell him before he saw him. Over the aroma of toasted bread was a bright bouquet of lemon balm and oranges, and Dean groaned when he turned to find his husband shower damp and clad in a thick white towel that made his eyes seem stormy blue.

“Cas, are you trying to kill me?” Dean whined, taking in the tanned skin and brown nipples, the dark freckle that seemed made for Dean’s tongue to lavish. Hellhounds couldn’t have dragged his gaze away from the firm chest and light trail of hair that led to the most gorgeously cut hipbones cruelly hidden by the bath towel. That was to say nothing of the thick, muscled thighs and runners calves; fuck, the man even made feet sexy, and it was that thought that jerked Dean out of his leering. He raised his eyes to Castiel’s face to find his husband smirking at him knowingly. 

The bagel slices popped from the toaster, and Dean turned back to take them out, place them on a plate, and slather them with cream cheese.

“I don’t know what you mean, love,” Castiel said, and out of his peripheral, Dean saw Cas take the mug he'd left for him off the counter and filled it with coffee, before adding cream and sugar. Dean felt the familiar rush of warmth at the sweet endearment Cas often called him.

Dean felt arms snake around his waist, and he put down the butter knife to lean back into the embrace. “You know I always have coffee with you before I leave,” Castiel murmured against Dean’s cheek, face smooth against Dean’s though he knew his husband would be sporting a sexy five o’clock shadow by the time the day is over.

Dean glanced over his shoulder and found blue eyes smiling back at him with naked love and amusement, lighting their depths. “Ha. And since when do you, my creature of habit, drink your coffee before being dressed for the day? You're just mean.”

Castiel tightened his hold around Dean’s waist as he chuckled against his ear. “Aw, my poor sweetheart.”

Dean merely grumbled, turning in Castiel’s arms and pushing him back a step.

“Go sit, you siren, and eat your bagel.” 

Before Dean could turn to refill his own coffee, Castiel gripped his shoulder with one hand and cradled his head with the other, dragging him oh so willingly into a dark, languid kiss. It was the kind of kiss that always made Dean’s head fuzzy like he was swimming underwater. His only focus, the breath he was stealing from Cas’ mouth as they kissed deep and thorough. Dean pulled back with a gasp and rested his forehead to Castiel’s. Dean was gratified to feel that he was not the only one affected, as the quickly hardening length encased behind Cas’ towel rubbed against Dean’s jean-clad leg.

“You want me to take care of that for you?” Dean teased, only to gasp sharply when Castiel reached down and unhitched his towel, letting the material slide down with a soft whoosh. His cock, as long as Dean’s, but a bit thicker and uncut, jutted proudly against Castiel’s stomach and Dean’s mouth watered. He didn’t even need the firm but gentle hand to tell him to sink to his knees and open his mouth.

“Damn, Cas, something sure got your motor running this morning,” Dean whispered, the ghost of his breath whispering over the head of Castiel’s cock.

“Only you, love,” Cas’ voice was sandpaper rough as he pushed the head of his dick between Dean’s lips.

They didn’t have a lot of time, so Dean got to work quickly. His nonexistent gag reflex— _which took a long time of experimentation with Cas to master_ — made it easy for Dean to take his husband apart. Fingers fisted in his hair as Cas began to thrust into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s mouth stayed lax, the slick, wet sounds of Cas' dick popping in and out of his throat had his own dick perking up in his jeans, and he itched to adjust. But Castiel was almost there; Dean could hear it in his rough pants and grunts, through his tears, he could see it in the quivering of Cas’ stomach muscles. When Dean looked up through wet lashes and caught Castiel’s gaze, his eyes turned dark before they rolled up as he tipped his head back on a guttural cry. Dean swallowed reflexively as Castiel came down his throat, pulsing hotly. Dean winced as Cas’ hands yanked on his hair before they soothed in apology with soft pats. Cas slipped out of his mouth and breathing still harsh as he pulled Dean up and cradled his face. Cas’ thumb swept across his wet lips, and he reached for a paper towel off the holder and gently dried his face.

“Thank you, love,” Castiel said, kissing Dean’s swollen lips softly.

“You don’t have to thank me for sex, Cas,” Dean teased. “We’re all married and stuff,” Dean grinned and moved back into Cas’ space and allowed himself to be wrapped in his arms. Dean sighed, burying his face in Castiel’s neck, breathing in his fresh citrusy scent. Dean always enjoyed intimacy after sex, that reassurance of closeness beyond the physical, and Castiel was more than happy to indulge him.

“I can be a little late,” Castiel murmured against Dean’s ear, obviously feeling the evidence of Dean’s arousal against Cas’ body. 

Dean chuckled softly, squeezing Castiel even tighter. “No, you can’t. Gabriel will never let you hear the end of it.”

“We’re going away for two weeks. I can deal with my partner’s snark for one day,” Castiel grinned, fingers ghosting down Dean’s chest, and he laughed, then pressed a soft kiss to Castiel’s pillowy lips.

“You can make it up to me later,” Dean said. “That was just for you. You know I don’t like you going to work distracted,” That, and there was the fact that Castiel was just downright irresistible. “Now, go get dressed before I change my mind, and we’re both late.”

After another lingering kiss, Castiel finally stepped away from him, taking his coffee to get dressed. Dean blew out a breath, thinking of anything unsexy to will away his erection. Dean wiped down the counter and turned off the coffee maker. A glance at his watch told Dean he and Castiel had about twenty minutes before they parted ways for the day. 

It promised to be a sunny but cold day, in Angel Valley. It always took spring a little bit to get its foothold in Vermont, but the weather report last night had said the temperature would reach fifty today. It would be a nice day to work in the garden if Dean wasn’t going to be stuck in school with pissed off and misguided youths. It could be worse. Even though it was technically an in-school suspension, Spring Break meant all the district schools would be shut down for thorough cleaning and remodelling meaning Dean would be hosting his small gaggle of teens at the local library instead. The library was a relatively decent-sized three-story building, with archives in the basement. They’d be stuck there from nine to three, and Dean was grateful that they were allowed to bring snacks, as long as they were eaten at the tables in the lobby area and nowhere near the stacks. Dean did not relish being stuck in a building with hungry, pissed off delinquents.

When Castiel returned from the bedroom, he was dressed in his usual attire. A plain-clothes detective, Cas’ standard outfit consisted of slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a perpetually backward tie that Dean was always straightening. Which come to think of it, may very well be deliberate if the warm, amused look in Cas’ baby-blues were anything to go by.

Dean pointed to the table where he placed Cas’ strawberry cream cheese bagel, now long cold. “Eat, I’ll get your trenchcoat.” 

Without waiting for a response, Dean went to the living room closet, pulling out the tan trenchcoat that Castiel always wore, despite it being a little loose and boxy on his phenomenal frame.

Dean draped Cas’ coat and his own scarred leather jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Did you know I have Claire in ISS today?” Dean asked as he sipped at his now lukewarm coffee.

Castiel groaned as he chewed his bagel. “No,” he said over a mouthful, quickly washing it down with his coffee. “Jimmy didn’t say anything. Jesus, that’s the last thing he needs. What did she do?”

“Don’t be too mad; she’s having a hard time. I get it. I acted out hard when Dad started dating Kate after my mom died.”

“I know,” Castiel said dryly. “I’ve seen your record.”

“Haha, you have not. I was a juvenile.”

Claire was a senior. Dean had actually known her longer than he had known Cas, first as her elementary school gym teacher, then later when he made the move to High School Guidance Counselor. She was sassy, sarcastic, and smart as fuck. Claire was also a teenager growing up without a mom, and rebelling at the fact that after nearly five years, her father was finally dating again. Jimmy had just started getting serious with Registered Nurse Meg Masters, and Claire was not handling it well at all.

“So, what did my darling niece do?”

“She skipped class with the new girl, Kaia, and they were caught making out in the girls' locker room.”

Castiel snorted. “Yeah, not the smartest place to hide.”

“Right? Shoulda used the janitors’ closet by the third pod. Everyone always forgets about that one,” Dean said sagely, and Castiel merely glared at him, with cream cheese lining his upper lip. Dean chuckled, leaning across the table to swipe the sweetness away and sucking it off his thumb. Dean winked when Cas’ eyes turned dark sapphire as he tracked the movement. It gave Dean a thrill to know that even sated, Cas still desired him.

“I suppose that’s the one you always used?” Castiel asked loftily, and Dean shrugged.

“Rhonda was always loud, especially if I wore the panties she liked,” Dean said with a waggle of his brows, ducking when Castiel chucked a wadded up napkin at him.

“Well, I hope she enjoyed it while it lasted, love, because the only one allowed to see you in silk and satin is me,” Castiel growled possessively, and Dean laughed, standing up and stealing Cas’ plate to put in the dishwasher before his husband had a chance to. When he straightened up and turned around, Castiel was standing there, trenchcoat on and toe-to-toe with Dean.

“Have a good day, Dean,” Castiel said, his gravely voice soft and husky, and Dean slipped a hand around his waist beneath the coat, tugging him in.

“Stay safe, detective,” Dean murmured, a hairsbreadth from those pink, chapped lips, before closing the distance for a sweet kiss goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel had to force himself out the door after his parting kiss with Dean. His husband was always irresistible to him, but Castiel thought that just knowing he would be spending the next two weeks with his love in paradise had him feeling more clingy and possessive than usual.

Castiel passed Dean’s beloved 67 Chevy Impala, fingers skimming her glossy black paint as he made his way to his own vehicle in the driveway. His Lincoln Continental was a boat, but it was in excellent condition. Dean called her a pimpmobile, but Castiel didn’t care. It got him from point A to point B, and this morning, point B was his partner, Gabriel Milton’s house. 

Gabriel lived about fifteen minutes across town from Cas and Dean’s house in a small two-bedroom apartment with his roommate-slash hopeless crush-Kali. Castiel maneuvered his way around the side-street parking and pulled up out front. He honked the horn once, drumming his fingers on the wheel to the rhythm of Louden Swain’s _Eskimo_.

It was only a minute before Gabriel jogged down his building's front steps, sunglasses covering his golden-brown eyes, hair to match fluttering behind him in the breeze. Dean liked to tease that Gabriel’s hair was almost as luxurious as Sam’s mane, going so far as to get them matching salon appointments for Christmas last year.

The joke was on Dean as the pair of them now had standing appointments every six weeks.

“Morning, Cassie,” Gabriel said as he slipped into the car, giving Cas a once over. A massive blow pop made his cheek plump up like a chipmunk’s “Huh. Someone got lucky this morning,” he said, wagging his brows.

“What?” Castiel narrowed his eyes. “You can’t tell that just from looking at me, Gabriel. “

“Sure I can,” Gabriel said, sucking on his pop obnoxiously. “You’re all glowy. And I know you and Dean.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’m not a pregnant woman, Gabriel. Nothing about me glows.”

“Not even your condoms?—Wait, scratch that. I bet you two bareback.”

“Jesus Christ, Gabriel,” God save him from curious straights.

Gabriel snickered around his lollipop. “Ooh, can you swing through _Java The Cup_? I want a muffin, and Charlie said she was putting Snickerdoodle coffee back on the menu.”

Charlie Bradbury owned _Java the Cup_ , the best coffee shop in Dean’s opinion because it combined some of his favorite things: Coffee, Video games, and Star Wars. It was a fun place to relax and let your geek flag fly, as his husband liked to say. Castiel found himself dragged to quite a few Trivia nights at the eclectic little coffee shop, initially against his will, but now Cas looked forward to the once a month game night as much as his husband and his partner.

“Oh, you mean that strawberry lollipop isn't filling enough?” He asked sarcastically, taking the turn on to Nicholson Drive and then taking a left at Lambert to hit the drive-thru.

“It’s cherry, actually, and you know me, Cassiopeia. I need more than just fruit to get me through the day. “

Castiel pulled into the station fifteen minutes later and tossed a box of donuts on an empty desk in the bullpen. It almost hurt him to see the cliche happen before his eyes, as officers attacked the box like a plague of locusts.

“Morning, boys,” Sheriff Mills greeted Castiel and Gabriel on the way to their office. 

“Morning, Sheriff,” Castiel said. “Here,” Castiel pulled the small pastry box he had under his arm. “I doubt there is any left out there,” he said, handing it to the Sheriff. “One jelly-filled, one powdered,” Castiel revealed, knowing that Sheriff Mills had a weakness and that she would share her spoils with her wife, Deputy Donna Hascum.

“See, this is why you’re my favorite, Novak,” Jody said with a wink.

“Hey, what about me?” Gabriel whined, the whipped foam from his snickerdoodle coffee coating his upper lip like a mustache.

Jody raised a brow. “Did you pay for it?”

Castiel laughed as Gabriel pouted, stalking past them to their shared office.

“Did your husband tell you that he has Alex in ISS today?” Jody asked, a hint of exasperation in her tone as she mentioned her and Donna’s foster son, and Castiel grinned.

“No, but that might be because he was preoccupied telling me about Claire being in ISS today,” he said dryly. 

“Gotta love moody teenagers,” Jody sighed. “You got much paperwork left before you abandon us for two weeks?” she teased.

“Not too much, a couple of B&E’s and the Sands /Swallow case. Sands wound up taking the plea, and they lessened the charge from aggravated assault to simple.”

The Sheriff gave an undignified snort. “She’ll wind up paying a hefty fine, but it will keep her ass out of jail.”

Castiel hummed in agreement. There was nothing more annoying to him than dealing with spoiled socialites. Abaddon Sands and Amara Swallow both considered themselves the Queen Bee when it came to Angel Valley high society. They competed for everything, from a chair on the board of directors for the Historical Society and Angel Valley Arts, to the current battle the affections of one rich, eligible bachelor Mr. Aaron Bass, whom to Castiel’s amusement, was gayer than a drag queen at a Judy Garland revival. Didn’t stop them from getting into a heated altercation at a charity ball for the pediatric ward of Angel Valley Memorial Hospital, resulting in a broken pearl necklace, a smashed driver-side window of an expensive as fuck Tesla, and ripped hair extensions.

Castiel tried to see the humor in it. Crime and conviction rates in Angel Valley were at a much lower rate than at the Chicago PD. When Cas first moved to Vermont six years ago, he worried that Angel Valley’s small-town pace would make him get fat and lazy after years of hardcore city streets. But then he had met Dean, and Castiel decided that he would just have to exercise more because there was no way he was leaving this quaint little town after finding the love of his life right in the center of it.

Now he was forty-one, and even though Cas wasn’t chasing down hardened criminals on the daily—he kept himself in excellent shape by running five miles three times a week and sunrise Yoga every Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Castiel was proud of his strength and body, and every appreciative, lust-filled gaze his husband threw his way, whether he was dressed or not, was all the motivation he needed. 

Jimmy liked to tease him about how hard Castiel worked to keep in shape while Dean pretty much lived off of bacon and burgers and only had a tiny bit of pudge around his middle to show for it. The rest of Dean Winchester was strong and firm and so perfect he looked photoshopped.

Thankfully, Gabriel agreed to split the paperwork between them, allowing them to get through all of it by lunchtime. They clocked out, and after a quick debate between Greek or Thai, they wound up at Harvelle’s bar and grille, like they usually did anyway. 

Castiel realized his cell was off and powered it on as they walked through the parking lot. His phone pinged immediately, and Cas grinned like a fool when he opened it up to find a selfie sent this morning with Dean and a reluctant Claire, each holding a cookie. Dean beamed charmingly while Claire’s eyes, lined dark, glared back, with the barest hint of a smile at her too bright lips. 

_Dean: If you talk to Jimmy before I do, tell him the daughter of darkness is doing fine. Xoxo_

Castiel tapped out his response.

**_Cas: Thanks, love, will do._ **

Castiel waved at Jo behind the bar as he and Gabriel sat at their usual table in the back. Jo Harvelle, a slight blonde girl who packed a punch, had taken over the business from her mother Ellen right around when Castiel moved to town. Ellen was happily retired and traveling around the country with her boyfriend (and Dean’s Uncle) Bobby Singer.

Cas felt his phone go off again.

_Dean: I think Mildred just propositioned me._

Castiel laughed out loud, turning the screen towards Gabriel, who snorted.

**_Cas: Let her down gently._ **

Castiel smiled when young Krissy Chambers came to take their order. She was a senior at Angel Valley High and a favorite of Dean’s. His husband had helped the sassy high schooler apply for art scholarships and her college applications. Krissy had been so excited when she learned she had been accepted to the Rhode Island School of Design. 

“Hey Detective Novak, Officer Milton, what can I get you?”

They placed their orders, Castiel getting a steak tip salad and Gabriel going all out with a fried chicken club with extra fries.

“I hope you have fun and all, but the next two weeks are gonna suck without you,” Gabriel complained over a mouthful of fries, before taking a sip of his chocolate shake.

Amused, Castiel stirred a sugar packet into his iced tea. “I’m sure you’ll survive without me.”

Castiel’s phone buzzed again, and Castiel pulled it out of his pocket.

_Dean: This is boring AF. Can we fast forward to the part where we’re naked and your rubbing sunblock all over my skin, so I don’t freckle?_

Castiel chuckled as he read.

**_Cas: I love your freckles. Now, stop sending me sultry messages while I’m working sweetheart. You wouldn’t want me distracted, remember?_ **

“Oh, sure,” Gabriel said, causing Castiel to look up from his phone. “While you're soaking up the sun with Calvin fucking Klein,” Castiel barked out a loud laugh, because true.

_Dean: Fine. My sultry ass will see you at home. Xxoo_

“And I am gonna be stuck here showing our new rookie the ropes,” Gabriel whined.

**_Cas: We can order pizza tonight. After I pay you back for this morning ;) Love you._ **

Castiel pocketed his phone and smiled at Gabriel smugly. “Better you than me,” he said with a grin. 

Alfie was a sweet kid, fresh out of the academy, but he thought Castiel walked on water for whatever reason. It had only gotten more embarrassing when the rookie realized that his old High School Guidance Counselor was Cas’ husband. Dean had joked just last week that he was pretty sure Alfie and his best friend Becky had a fan page for the two of them.

_“They probably call it Destiel,” Dean teased, as he and Cas tried to ignore the pair in the car next to them at the drive-in. Alfie and Becky, seemed more interested in what was going on in Dean’s Impala than what was happening on the movie screen in front of them._

_“Shut up,” Castiel chuckled, tossing a few skittles into his mouth._

_“Hey, don’t Bogart the rainbow,” Dean said, stealing the bag out of Cas’ hands and distracting him with a fruity kiss. When Dean pulled back, he rolled his eyes, as Becky and Alfie quickly pretended to pay attention to the car chase instead of on what was going on in the Impala._

_“Told you. Fanfiction. NC17 stuff,” Dean nodded sagely. Castiel only rolled his eyes and tucked himself into Dean’s side._

“What time you guys heading out again?” Gabriel asked as Castiel had Krissy pack up two slices of Ellen’s famous cherry cheesecake to enjoy with Dean later. It wasn’t pie, but Dean was never one to turn down a decadent dessert.

“Car service will be here at four am on Monday to take us to the airport. I had suggested we just stay in Burlington tomorrow night, but Dean doesn’t trust anyone to drive the Impala home, and he refuses to pay to have it parked in the lot for two weeks. Plus, I’m already giving you my car tomorrow afternoon, so you don’t have to use one of the squad cars.” Gabriel’s own car had been in the shop for the past week, and Castiel had been kind enough to cart his ass around. 

“And thank you so much for that, Cas. I swear, no matter how well they’re cleaned, they always smell like coffee and vomit.”

Castiel winced at the description, glad he had already eaten before the conversation began.

“Come on,” Castiel said as they left the restaurant with another wave to Jo. “Only two more hours, then I’m off for fourteen glorious days.”

“Have fun, Cas! Hug Dean for me,” Jo yelled from over from the counter as they left.

“I will, thanks, Jo.”

“Don’t worry, Jo, I’ll still be here,” Gabriel said with a wink, and Jo laughed brightly.

“See,” Castiel said as they got back in the car. “Why don’t you ask out Jo instead of pining over Kali?”

Gabriel sent him a look that could only be described as _are you fucking crazy_? “No way. And have to deal with Dean every time we got in an argument? You really think your husband would be okay with me dating his pseudo little sister?”

Castiel clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. “It was Dean’s idea.”

Castiel couldn’t help but grin at the gobsmacked face that Gabriel wore all the way back to the station.

The rest of their shift passed by uneventfully, and it was with a happy little jig that Castiel clocked out, eager to drop Gabriel off at home and get to the pharmacy to pick up Dean’s prescription. He was halfway there when his cell phone rang. _Jody Mills._

“Sheriff Mills, was there something I forgot before I left?” Castiel asked, putting the phone on speaker.

“Castiel. I need you to come back to the station.”

The tone of her voice had dread pooling in his stomach as Castiel quickly made a u-turn, knowing not to argue.

“What’s going on, Sheriff? What aren’t you telling me?” Castiel asked through gritted teeth.

“I’d rather not talk about it while you’re driving, Castiel.”

“With all due respect, Sheriff, that isn’t making me any less anxious. Just tell me what’s going on. Is it Dean? Oh my God, is there something wrong with Dean, Jody?”

There was a silent beat as Castiel white-knuckled the steering wheel.

“Yes,” she said finally. “There’s something wrong with Dean.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Five years prior_

The door burst open with a loud clap, startling Castiel upright on his barstool. To her credit, Ellen didn’t even flinch; just continued to polish her glasses behind the bar, with a quirk to her lips and a roll of her eyes. In fact, as Castiel looked around, he couldn’t help but observe that no one had even seemed to pause at the disturbance. They just continued eating, bobbing their heads to the music playing unobtrusively in the background. Meanwhile, the most attractive man Castiel had arguably ever laid eyes on, stood in the doorway, dressed in chainmail, hand held high holding what looked like a prop sword. The stretchy material of his pants clung to beautifully bowed legs, and Castiel thought he looked as though he’d just left a renaissance fair. 

The man released a loud bellow—” We were Victorious! A round of mead for my comrades,” he gave the bar a charming smile that lit up his already stunning face. 

“I don’t have mead,” Ellen said, as two more people pushed past the man in the door; A woman, dressed similarly to Cas’ dream man, with bright red hair accentuated by a sparkling crown and, to Cas’ surprise, his new partner at the precinct, Gabriel. Castiel watched as the pair made a beeline for the pool tables in the back of the bar.

Bowed Legs laughed, and the sound of it had Castiel’s stomach fluttering. He frowned at the sensation. When was the last time he was affected by someone like this so quickly? Had he ever been?

“Ah, well, How about three Sam Adams, then?” the man said, with a glance at Castiel. Now that he was closer, Castiel could see that his eyes were an entrancing mix of green and gold, like moss in the sunlight. “And whatever blue eyes over here is having.”

Castiel’s brows rose in surprise as the man winked at him, and behind the bar, Ellen snorted. Clearly, Bowed-Leg’s fall-colored eyes and golden freckles did not affect the bar owner the way he affected Cas. 

“Jesus Dean, the man’s a cop,” Ellen said, but her tone was more amused than irritated, and Dean merely shrugged and slid into the barstool right next to Castiel.

“If that’s supposed to scare me, you should know that only makes him hotter,” Dean said, and Castiel let out a huff of laughter at his bluntness. 

Ellen merely shook her head and turned to make him another vodka on the rocks. 

It occurred to Castiel that he and Dean were staring at one another, both observing, and what was odder, how _not_ weird it felt. Castiel watched as Dean’s mouth lifted into a soft smile, he held out his hand and Castiel grasped it, shaking it automatically. He didn’t think he imagined the electricity when they touched.

“Dean Winchester, handmaiden to the Queen of Moondoor, and you are?” Dean asked, playfully, and Castiel laughed again.

“Detective Castiel Novak,” Castiel managed to say when he remembered how to make his lips move.

“Novak?” Dean’s eyes widened along with his smile. “Gabriel’s partner and Claire’s uncle, then? Pleasure to meetcha, Cas.”

Castiel cocked his head. “You know my niece?” he asked, sending Ellen a quick smile of thanks when she placed his new drink in front of him.

Dean nodded as he sipped at his own drink. “Yeah, see, I’m not just a handmaiden,” Dean’s voice was conspirative, and Cas found himself grinning. “I also work in education for the school district and have known Claire for years. I see it now, you’re resemblance to Jimmy,” Dean said, eyes roaming Cas’ face, nodding approvingly.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I should hope so; we’re twins.”

“Yeah, but you’re all tousled and sporting the sexy scruff. Your eyes are brighter and a little stormy. And your voice is deeper, kinda gravelly. It’s pretty hot, detective.”

“Damn, Dean-o, you didn’t waste any time, did you? What’s up, partner?” Gabriel shot him a wink, grabbing his beer off the bar and wedging between the two of them. 

“Hello, Gabriel. May I ask why you aren’t dressed like an inhabitant of, Moondoor, was it?” Castiel asked dryly, and Dean chuckled.

“I do security for the LARPing events,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “Free turkey legs and fried dough. It’s a pretty good gig.”

Castiel could only shake his head in amusement. “How do you two know each other?” Cas asked, gesturing between Gabriel and Dean.

“He and I,” Dean said, jerking a thumb at Gabriel, “went to high-school together. Along with Queen Charlie, that nerd over there,” Dean gestured towards the pool tables.

“Says the man dressed like Braveheart,” Castiel challenged, laughing when Dean scowled and scrubbed his fingers through his short, spiky hair. The honey-colored strands sticking straight up.

“Hey, at least I’m not wearing the wig this time,” Dean said, and Castiel smirked as he imagined it. Cas was surprised to see that Gabriel had taken the other beer and slipped away, making his way back to Charlie. Nothing that he had seen in the little time he had known Gabriel since moving to Angel Valley, had given him the impression that subtlety was his style. But Castiel wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Taking a leap of faith, Castiel slammed back his drink.

“Well, Dean, if you’re amendable, I’d like to take you back to my apartment to celebrate your victory.” Years of on the job training were the only thing that saved Castiel from appearing anything less than confident that Dean was on the same page as him. On the inside, however, Cas was praying he hadn’t misread the situation. When the slow smile rolled across Dean’s face, Castiel stepped off of the stool and into Dean’s space.

For a moment, they just gazed, searching for what, Castiel didn’t know yet, but that was okay. For now, this was enough.

“Yeah, Cas. I’d love to celebrate with you.”

_Present_

Castiel’s mind went blank as he tried to compute the words that just came out of Jody’s mouth. 

“Is he alive?” Castiel managed to choke out.

“As far as we know.”

“I’m two minutes out,” Castiel said grimly, refusing to believe that his husband wouldn’t be anything but fine.

Castiel’s fingers were aching when he careened into the station, the tight knuckle grip he’d kept while driving only registering now as he released the steering wheel. 

Other officers parted with ease as he stormed through the station, and Castiel could only imagine the thunderous look on his face as he searched out the Sheriff.

He found her in one of the briefing rooms and strode in, barking for answers without preamble.

Jody arched a brow at him. “You’re gonna calm yourself down before I get into any specifics with you, Novak,” Jody declared, and Castiel raked a hand through his hair as he took a breath. Cas suddenly realized they were not alone in the room as he finally registered Sam, Jimmy and Claire, who was cuddled up to Jimmy, looking far younger than her teenage years. Holding her hand, there was another girl Castiel didn’t recognize, with dark eyes and dark hair. 

“Gabriel is en route. You’d already dropped him off, so Alfie went to go pick him up.”

“Gabriel can catch up. Jody, please,” Castiel implored, forsaking professionalism. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Dean and Alex are being held at gunpoint by a man at the library.”

The words didn’t want to compute. His Dean. Held at gunpoint. By a man at the Library. _No, no, no, no. This is not happening._

“I don’t understand. Claire?” Castiel looked at his niece in confusion. “How—you were with Dean.“

“Kaia and I escaped. Uncle Dean, he um, he noticed something was off with the guy, right away,” Claire’s voice was shaky, and Castiel reminded himself of his training, forcing himself not to interrupt with questions and let her speak. “We were watching that stupid soap opera Uncle Dean likes and Alex—he… he was in the bathroom,” Claire’s voice broke, and Kaia squeezed her hand.

“Mr. Fitzgerald left at noon, then like, two hours later, this creepy guy showed up and was just, like, wandering around. It made me nervous,” Kaia said softly. “Claire’s right, we could see he was wigging out Mr. Winchester, too. And then I saw it.”

“Saw what?” Castiel asked sharply.

“The gun,” Kaia whispered. 

“He had a gun, and Mr. Winchester must have noticed too, because all of a sudden he was like: _Okay, girls. You can head out now. Let’s not make this a habit._ We were supposed to stay until three,” Kaia said, and Castiel nodded, feeling numb as he glanced up at the industrial wall clock. 3:20. Dean should have been pulling into the driveway, and Castiel should be at the house waiting for him, instead of this nightmare he was lost in.

“We grabbed our stuff and tried to be casual,” Kaia continued, “and he walked us to the door. I wanted to scream for him to come with us—”

“He wouldn’t have left Alex,” Sam murmured from his chair, and Castiel nodded in agreement. Of course, he wouldn’t have.

“Do you remember anything else? Did Dean say anything else?”

Claire looked up, eyes shining. “ _Say hi to your uncle for me.”_

Castiel’s heart stopped.

 _“_ When I looked back through the window, I saw Alex was back, and I waited for a second, because I stupidly thought, well maybe he’s just a weird dude with a gun,” Kaia said brokenly. “Lots of idiots carry guns, look who the president is? I… I thought maybe Mr. Winchester would tell Alex to leave too, and that we’d all just overreacted? B-but then, I saw the man raise his gun and start to point it at Alex and then Mr. Winchester stepping in front of him. So we ran. We ran all the way here.”

“Do we have eyes on the place?” Castiel asked, swallowing his terror that wanted nothing more to consume him.

“Yes, we sent Donna and Doug in plainclothes right after the girls arrived,” Jody heaved a breath. “There’s been no call for ransom and no gunshots.” 

“None that you know of, you mean,” Castiel barked, not wanting to say out loud what they all were thinking. Dean and Alex may already be dead if they were shot between the time Claire and Kaia left and made it the few blocks to the station. He swallowed back bile.

“I don’t understand. What could possibly be so important at the Angel Valley Library that a gunman would show up?” Castiel knew he was missing some information.

“A witness to murder,” Jody said flatly, and Castiel looked at her in shock. “Castiel, Alex isn’t just our foster child. He’s in witness protection. His real name is Jack Kline, and he is the only witness to the mob hit on his mother, ordered by Luke Pellegrino.”

Castiel found himself sucking in a breath as he sank into one of the uncomfortable chairs next to his brother-in-law. Luke Pellegrino had been in prison awaiting trial for nearly two years. Witnesses kept turning up dead, and the NYPD was catching enough criticism for it, enough to reach the Angel Valley news.

“Donna and I were approached by a colleague at the academy to keep Jack safe while we awaited trial, and we agreed,” Jody inhaled shakily. 

“A kid targeted by a madman and his cronies moves in with you and goes to my daughter’s school, and you say nothing?” Jimmy burst out. 

“That’s kind of the point of witness protection, Mr. Novak,” Jody retorted. 

“Bang-up job you’re doing with that,” Jimmy bit out, and Castiel closed his eyes. His twin wasn’t helping matters.

“Jimmy, even if you had known. What would you have done? What'd you think Dean would do? Turn the kid away? Not in a million years,” Castiel said. Hell, Dean would have wanted to take the boy in himself. “It’s not Alex’s- _Jack’s_ fault this happened.” 

“It’s my fault,” the ragged whisper came from Claire, and Castiel’s eyes immediately went to his niece, who had tears slipping down her pale cheeks, leaving kohl tracks from her eyeliner.

“No, sweetie,” Jimmy comforted his daughter, but Claire only shook her head, lifting tear-filled blue eyes, to look at Cas.

“I took that picture of Al-Jack, at the fall festival LARPing event. Becky Rosen paid me for it and ran it in the newspaper. I’m so sorry, Uncle Cas. This guy must have found him because of me, and now…” Claire trailed off, overcome.

Castiel willed his heart to slow and took a deep breath, leaving his seat to crouch before the young girl, placing his hand on her knee.

“Claire, listen to me. None of this is your fault, okay? Luke Pellegrino and his crew are criminals and murderers,” his breath hitched on the word, ”Whatever is going on right now is on them, not you.”

Claire lurched forward in her chair, locking her arms around Cas’ neck, tightly. He met his brother’s eyes, and Jimmy mouthed thank you with a soft smile.

The sound of the door opening and Gabriel shuffling in had her pulling back and Castiel rising to his feet. The rare grave expression on Gabriel’s face only succeeded in pointing out how serious the situation was, and Castiel’s chest again tightened as thoughts of Dean flooded his mind. He willed them back, determined to be strong. Dean was counting on him.

“Good. You’re here—” Jody was interrupted when the phone began ringing. 

Castiel leaned against the wall, arms folded, fighting back his fear so he could listen, as Jody answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Angel Valley P.D., please state your emergency.”

A nasal voice came through the speakers, and Castiel felt chills down his spine.

“Oh, I'd be happy to. For starters, the officers you don't think I see watching outside are hindering my exit. So unless you want high school guidance counsellor guts splattered all over the books in this place, I suggest you ask them to skedaddle.” Then there was nothing but a dial tone.

Castiel lurched over to the waste paper basket and promptly threw up.

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Dean’s fingers drummed on his baby’s steering wheel as he drove, relishing the sun shining through the window and the beat of the music. His mood was buoyant, and Dean didn’t think anything could wipe the smile off of his face. Dean would get through his day, Cas would finish his shift, and then they would officially be on vacation mode.

Dean pulled into Java the Cup, parking in front of a Jedi Parking Only sign. He pulled on the lightsaber themed door handles and entered the coffee shop. Dean’s stomach growled at the scent of fresh pastries, despite already having breakfast. Dean nodded at the regulars who frequented the establishment; Frank Devereaux and Marv Metatron sipping on coffee and playing Cribbage, and Ed and Harry schooling each other in Mortal Combat in front of the enormous wall screen television and selection of classic Nintendo games.

The inside of Java the Cup had low tables and sofas, as well as bean bag chairs and reading nooks. Dean loved it and was so proud of the owner, his oldest and dearest friend, Charlie Bradbury. They’d met in high school detention and bonded over a love for all things fantasy and sci-fi.

Dean walked up to the counter, throwing a wink at young Kevin Tran behind the counter. His mother, Linda, worked as Dean’s Vice-principal. Dean leaned over the blue laminate, calling out to the back kitchen.

“Yo, Red, I need me a dozen chocolate chip cookies and a slice of whatever Benny’s house pie is today.”

“Is that any way to speak to your queen?” Charlie said loftily as she breezed through the double doors.  
“I beg forgiveness, My Queen” Dean said with a laugh, accepting the large black coffee. “Hey, I’m headed to the library; wanna get me a large of whatever Garth’s regular is?”

“So, you excited for your vacation?” Charlie asked as she boxed up a sugar-glazed cranberry and ginger muffin before moving on to the cappuccino machine. Head Librarian, Garth Fitzgerald, had a sweet tooth that rivaled Castiel’s partner Gabriel’s and Dean’s teeth winced in sympathy.

“Am I excited about getting on another metal death tube? No? Am I excited to have my gorgeous husband all to myself for two weeks? You bet your ass. As soon as it’s 3 p.m., I am sending everyone home and locking the doors.”

Charlie cocked her head. ”Since when do you work at the Library?”

Dean laughed, nodding his thanks at Kevin when he handed him a takeout bag with the rest of his goodies.

“Hosting ISS there today.”

Charlie arched a brow. “And nothing says punishment like chocolate chip cookies and pie?”

“Hey. The pie is mine. Anyway, the school’s closed, and Crowley refused to hold off until after the break, so the library it is.” Dean shrugged. “It won’t be too bad. It’s only till three, and I have the keys because there's some charity auction later on tonight. I told Garth I’d close up for him so he could get home early, and he and Bess can get ready and drop the kids off at her Dad’s house.”

Dean stayed and chatted for a few more minutes before he said goodbye and drove over to the library. Garth, a gangly, cheerful man, was waiting for Dean at the entrance, with a beaming smile, which grew miraculously wider when Dean handed over the sugary goods he’d picked up.

“Thanks, man!”

“Thank you,” Dean returned as he entered the cool building. It smelled of musty parchment and newspaper, not wholly unpleasant. “I’ll make sure they don’t destroy the place.”

“How many victims today?” Garth asked with a grin.

“Only three. Minor offenses,” Dean cocked his head, ”well, sort of minor,” Dean amended, thinking of how much of a mess it must have been to contain all of the frogs that Alex had let loose in his protest of dissection.

“Well, with this lovely weather, it’s unlikely we’ll see anyone aside from Miss Mildred hitting up the place today”. Mildred Baker was a sweet old woman with the heart of a cougar. It took a lot to make Dean Winchester blush but damned if that sassy woman didn’t make him do it.

Dean opened up his messenger bag and slipped his laptop out, thinking that depending on attitudes, that maybe he and the rest of the breakfast club could watch a movie. Or, Dean thought gleefully, he could stream the latest episodes of Doctor Sexy he missed. Save himself the eye-roll from Cas later on. And he could get to know this Kaia some more, especially if she was dating Claire.

Dean set up his laptop and was lounging at a table when Claire, Kaia, and Alex wandered in together. Dean smiled at Deputy Donna, who was waving cheerfully through the glass doors, giving her a salute. She and her wife, Sheriff Mills, had taken the boy—Alex—in, and from what Dean knew of him, he was a shy, curious teenager with the eyes of someone who had seen too much in his young life.

Claire and Kaia were holding hands as they walked in, but his niece let go of the dark-haired girl’s hand in favor of folding her arms defensively across her chest when she spotted Dean from the doorway.

Dean arched his eyebrow in challenge as he met her glare head-on. He had five years' experience with the patented Novak stare-down, his husband being the gold-medal champion, so this was nothing.

Finally, Claire’s shoulders slumped, and she rolled her eyes. “What? You got something to say?”

“Really? You couldn’t wait two hours until school let out to eat each other’s faces?” Dean asked, holding a smile back when he saw Kaia’s lips twitch as she looked away.

“Ha. That’s rich, coming from you, Uncle Dean. You and Uncle Cas can’t even get through a family dinner without some form of dry humping,” Claire shot back, and Dean let out a mock noise of disagreement.

“Language!” Dean admonished, and Claire snorted.

“What? I said humping not fu—”

“Hey, hey, hey, that’s enough of that,” Dean interrupted, ignoring Garth’s laughter as he busied himself behind his desk.

“Sorry, Mr. Winchester, it won’t happen again,” Kaia said contritely, and Dean huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, you deviants. Alex, as for you, a bit of advice. Make sure the frogs you free are actually set for dissection before you let them loose through the school,” Dean said, amused, and Alex rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I didn’t know they were going to be released into the pond,” Alex said awkwardly, and Dean got up from the table and came around to clap the boy on the shoulder.

“S’alright. Here—” Dean reached behind himself to grab the pastry bag lying next to his laptop. “Have a cookie.”

Alex flashed him a grin and reached into the bag. “Thanks, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean clapped his hands. “Okay, boy and girls,” he said, “we are stuck here for six hours. I don’t care what you do, read, play cards, study, so long as you’re quiet and you don’t spill any food or drink on the books. Garth looks gangly, but he could take ya, so don’t piss him off,” Dean said, and Garth playfully put on a stern face.

“And what are you going to do while we sit here bored to death?” Claire asked. “Daydream about Uncle Cas?”

“I am going to watch the last three episodes of Doctor Sexy that I missed and eat this glorious pie,” Dean answered cheerfully, gesturing towards his own treat on the table. He held back a smirk when he saw the blonde’s eyes light up. Alex had already wandered off to the adult fiction section. “If you don’t annoy me, you may join me,” Dean said, magnanimously holding the bag of cookies out to the girls.

“You go ahead,” Kaia said. “I have to finish this book, or I’ll never have that essay done before vacation is over,” she waved a book, and Dean caught the title. Cat’s Cradle. He nodded in approval.

Kaia made her way to a table by the window, and Dean poked Claire teasingly in the side when he saw her sappy smile as she watched the girl open her book.

“Shut up,” she muttered, and Dean only laughed.

“It’s adorable.”

“You’re such a doof.”

“What’s your ship name? Is it Claia? It’s Claia, isn’t it?”

“I hate you,” Claire said as she stomped over to drag a chair next to Dean’s in front of the laptop.

“Please,” Dean scoffed as he settled back down in his seat. “I’m your favorite.”

“You wish. Uncle Cas is my favorite.”

Dean couldn’t blame her; Cas was his favorite too. Speaking of, Dean picked up his phone and opened up the camera app, side-eying Claire as she snagged a cookie out of the bag. He narrowed his eyes at her pointedly.

“I thought you had pie?”

“Duh, that’s lunch,” he said and was awarded another epic eye-roll.

“Fine,” she grumbled, taking another cookie out of the bag and handing it to Dean.

“Thanks,“ he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Now, hold up your cookie and smile,” Dean directed, as he angled his phone in selfie-mode. Claire’s bright red lips twitched in a reluctant facsimile of a smile as Dean snapped the picture, sending it off to his husband.

_Dean: If you talk to Jimmy before I do, tell him the daughter of darkness is doing fine. Xoxo_

“Hey!” Claire whined, shoving at Dean’s shoulder. “I can’t wait for you guys to go on your vacation. Pretty sure we all need a break from your disgustingly sweet relationship.”

“Like you can talk,” Dean said with a nod over to Kaia, as he got the show cued up to go. He felt himself smile goofily when Castiel replied: _**My Detective: Thanks, love, will do.**_

_**** _

“I’m a teenager. I’m supposed to be a mooney dork. You’re like, 60.”

“Watch it, Miley. I’m forty.” Dean grumbled, but Claire only smirked and turned her attention to the laptop screen.

Dean let them get through half of an episode before he turned to Claire.

“So, seriously, what’s up with you lately? Why are you giving your dad such a hard time?”

Claire gave him a look that clearly said, are you fucking kidding me? “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Well, you gotta talk about it with someone, or else you’re just gonna keep getting into trouble.”

“Ooh, is that your big scary guidance counselor warning? Wanna tell me how I should stay away from weed and cigarettes too?”

“Claire, I’m being serious, here.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she finally mumbled after another moment of silence.

“Oh, really? Did you forget my mom died when I was a kid, too? I understand exactly.”

Claire huffed. “Okay, fine. You want to know what’s pissing me off? I’ll tell you. First of all, the girl is too young for him. She’s, like, barely thirty, and he’s forty-one. Second of all, she wears shorter skirts than I do, which is just ew.”

“Okay, but why do I feel like that’s not the real issue here,” Dean coaxed gently and had to bite back a smile when Claire pouted, reaching in the pastry bag for another cookie. She took a vicious bite, chomping aggressively, and Dean waited her out while she gathered her thoughts.

“My mom, she was really pretty, you know?” Claire said quietly, finally lifting her blue eyes to meet Dean’s. “She was gentle and kind, and she loved my dad so much. They were so happy. I thought she was the love of his life.” Dean felt his throat tighten a bit as the emotional tone of Claire’s voice had his heart clenching a little bit. He remembered, and it was true; James and Amelia Novak looked at each other the same way he and Cas did, and the thought of losing that was too heartwrenching for words.

“Claire, who says she wasn’t?” he asked softly, and Claire laughed bitterly.

“How did my dad go from someone as sweet and loving as my mom to some chick who looks like a slutty Halloween nurse?”

Dean had to stop himself from chiding Claire because as unfair as he thought the statement was, she was finally talking, and Dean didn’t want to scare her off.

“And now, I just keep wondering. What if mom hadn’t died? Would my dad have left her anyway? Found some hot younger girl and cheated?” Claire swiped angrily at her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He’s going to date her if he wants to, and there’s nothing I can do about it. God, I can’t wait to go to college so I can get out of this stupid town. Then I won’t have to watch them.”

Welp. He asked, and now Dean had no choice but to navigate this minefield of teenage emotion.

“Claire, there is no way your father would have ever cheated on your mom, okay? He loved her too much for that. He still loves her, Claire, whether she is here or not.” Dean reached into his messenger bag and pulled out two bottles of water and handed one over. He twisted off the cap and took a swig.

“When my dad started dating Kate, I was pissed. After my mom died, he went on like a two-year bender. He was barely reliable, couldn’t even look at me because I reminded him too much of my mom. I remember screaming at him. She would hate you! She would hate what you’ve become and how you treat us.

“I was fifteen when he met Kate. Jackass had cut himself on a broken whiskey glass when he was drunk, and I had to drag Sammy outta bed to drive him to the hospital.”

Claire just stared at him, looking appalled, and Dean shrugged.

“He couldn’t drive himself. Anyway, Kate was the nurse there. I don’t know what she said to him when I was out in the waiting room with Sam sleeping in my lap. But whatever it was, he changed after that. He got better. A little bit, day by day. Still, the first time he went out with her, I was fucking angry. I felt like he was betraying my mom. It felt like… like she didn’t matter anymore, and it wasn’t fair because I was mad at my dad for not being able to function without her, and then I was mad when he was able to.” He chanced a glance and found Claire wearing a soft smile of understanding.

“I just don’t want him to forget mom. I don’t want him to love her more,” Claire admitted.

“Claire, you’re dad is never going to forget your mom, okay? How could he, when he sees her every time you smile or laugh? My dad said to me, one night when I had finally acted out enough for him to say something, “Dean. Humans are not meant to go through life alone. And if I had my wish, me, you, your mom, and Sammy? We’d all be here—one big, happy family. But son, she’s gone. And I know your mama. She would have wanted us to find a way to be happy. To not be lonely. I love your mom, and I will always love her. Letting Kate into my life doesn’t take away from that. But Dean? I am lonely. And for the first time in a long time, I think things could get better.”

“I gave him the silent treatment for another week until I forced myself to take a look at my Dad, to see how he was finally smiling again. He was present at dinner, he asked about school and actually cared. As much as I hated the thought of him moving on from my mom, I was happy that it finally felt like I was getting him back.”

Dean gave her a moment to think and focused on the laptop in front of him. Alex was still searching the shelves for a book, but Kaia had made her way over to Garth and helped him with returns. Dean rolled his eyes as Dr. Piccolo flirted with a new intern in a blatant attempt to get Doctor Sexy’s attention. “C’mon,” Dean muttered at the screen. “Have some self-respect.”

Next to him, Claire giggled and gifted him the first genuine smile of the day.

“You’re such a dork, Uncle Dean.”

“I think I’m adorable,” he said cheekily, and Claire nudged his shoulder with her own.

“My dad does seem happier. I just...God, I just wish it wasn’t because of tramp stamp barbie.”  
Dean choked on his water. “I thought you said she was a slutty Halloween nurse?” Dean asked when he found his breath again.

“She can be both,” Claire said, flippantly.

“Okay, let me ask you this. If your dad started dating someone who was a lot like your mom, like, she dug the same music and movies. Maybe they looked alike or had similar mannerisms. Would that bother you? No, no, don’t,” Dean held up a hand when Claire immediately opened her mouth. “Take a sec and really think about it.”

“I guess that would be worse because then it would be just like he was replacing her,” her eyes flashed to Dean’s. “My mom is not replaceable.”

“No, sweetie, she’s not,” Dean said gently, and when he dropped his arm around her slight shoulders, Claire let him and rested her head against Dean’s. “Not to you, or your dad.”

After a while, Dean decided it was time to bug his niece about her girlfriend.

“So. Tell me about Kaia?” he tried for casual, but her death glare told Dean he was way off the mark.

“She’s hot. I like her.”

Dean snorted. “Nice try. For real, I wanna know.”

Claire sighed. “She’s been through a lot. It’s not my place…”

Dean didn’t need Claire to tell him about Kaia’s history if there were any behavioral disturbances. The teen’s uncle had come in himself, to talk to Dean when Kaia came to live with him and his wife. The girl’s father and twin sister had passed in an auto accident, and her mother had defected soon after, not being able to cope with the loss.

“No, that’s not...that’s not what I want to know,” Dean said, and Claire studied him.

“Yeah, you probably already know that stuff, huh?”

Dean didn’t bother answering. “Tell me the good stuff. Where’d you meet?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why? Were you at a bar? So help me if I have to tell Cas you-”

“No, Jesus, slow your roll, Hasselhoff,” Claire glanced around, and Dean saw Kaia and Garth both look up in concern.

“We’re fine! It’s fine!” They both said, and Dean waved awkwardly. Claire scoffed and pushed his hand down, muttering “dork.”

Finally, Claire replied, “We met in Moondoor.”

Dean tried, but he just couldn’t. The laugh rumbled out of him, and Claire slapped at his shoulder before slipping out of her chair.

“I hate you. Just for that, I saw this episode. Doctor Sexy sleeps with the new scrub nurse, and Doctor Picillo walks in on them,” Claire flounced away, smugly, as Dean gave a gasp of betrayal.

“How dare you?” He called after her until Garth looked at him with his hands on his hips. Dean merely closed his laptop and pouted.

The rest of the morning passed on, and right before lunch, Dean told Garth to head out.

“Go on, man, I’ll lock up.”

After Garth left, Alex, Claire, and Kaia sat together, as Dean watched as they shared snacks. It warmed his heart to see the small group so comfortable with each other. It made sense. Despite their outward differences, they were all very similar people. Like recognizes like.

Dean’s stomach growled, which was impressive considering he’d had breakfast then indulged in more cookies than he was proud of. Still, he wasn’t about to deny himself pie. He grabbed his container and the plastic fork that had been dropped inside of the bag of cookies. Dean smiled widely when he opened it up to find Benny’s signature apple. Dean was halfway through his delicious lunch when Mildred Baker walked through the door. She was put together as always, looking both lovely and regal. She held a book in her hand, and Dean saw her eyes light up when she spotted Dean at the table.

Mildred abandoned her book on Garth’s desk in favor of coming over to Dean. She winked at him, offering to let Dean sample her pie sometime, and he swore he blushed like a virgin at a strip club.

Dean picked up his phone and texted Cas.

_Dean: I think Mildred just propositioned me._

Dean stood up and stretched, and his phone buzzed on the table.

**_My Detective: Let her down gently._ **

Dean sighed as he paced the room. It was almost one o’clock, and Dean was antsy. He wished he could fast forward to the end of the day when he’d be home with Cas. Preferably naked. Better yet, already away on vacation.

Dean went to the doorway and leaned against the glass as he typed on his phone again.

_Dean: This is boring AF. Can we fast forward to the part where we’re naked and your rubbing sunblock all over my skin, so I don’t freckle?_

There was a beat and then:

**_My Detective: I love your freckles. Now, stop sending me sultry messages while I’m working sweetheart. You wouldn’t want me distracted, remember?_ **

Unfair.

_Dean: Fine. My sultry ass will see you at home. Xxoo_

Dean walked back to his table, and despite Claire’s spoilers, started his show back up.

**_My Detective: We can order pizza tonight. After I pay you back for this morning ;) Love you._ **

Claire and Kaia joined him at the table, and even Alex sat down with them, though he seemed much more interested in his beekeeping book than he did on the medical drama unfolding on screen. Yeah, Cas would like this kid, Dean thought fondly.

The next hour went by quicker once he was sucked into the show. Alex excused himself to use the restroom, and Dean and the girls were startled out of their show when the door jingled. A tall, thin man strode in, his eyes scanning the room deliberately.

“Hey there,” Dean called out, flashing a charming smile, and was met with a vacant look. “Just wanted to let you know we’re closing early today, so you’ll have to finish up by three.”

The man merely nodded at him, and Claire looked at Dean with raised brows as the man slinked off.

“Jeez, he’s just brimming with personality,” she whispered, and Kaia snickered. Dean observed the man, watching as he reached up to pull a book off of the shelf; when he did, Dean had to hold back a gasp. When he felt Kaia’s fingers squeeze his arm, he could see that the girl noticed it too.

“What?” Claire asked, and Kaia’s gaze whipped to the blondes, and her eyes screamed stop. Dean put a finger to his lips, and Claire stopped talking. Dean took a deep breath and rose from the table. He plastered on a smile and faced his charges.

“Okay, girls. You can head out now. But let’s not make this a habit,” Dean said, and Claire and Kaia hastily packed up their stuff. Dean could see that they were torn as he all but shoved them out the door. “Oh, and Claire? Say hi to your uncle for me.”

As Alex reentered the main room, the man by the stacks gave a frightening smile before he was pulling out that ill-concealed gun. And when Dean jumped in front of Alex and faced the barrel head-on, he could only hope Claire had understood his message.

Run. Run to Cas.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel was aware of his brother and his partner flanking him, and a hand rubbing up and down his back. His stomach was still rolling, but he had nothing left in his belly to heave. Cas forced himself to stand up and briskly walked out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall, feeling eyes on him the whole way.

Castiel turned the faucet with shaky hands at the sink, cupping the water to his mouth, rinsing and spitting out the taste of bile. When he was finished, Cas braced the sink and attempted to calm his ragged breathing. A glance in the mirror showed him sweating, blue eyes a touch wild, and his usually tan skin was chalky white. 

Castiel couldn’t remember ever being so scared in his life. He needed to get it together right now, or Jody would kick him out. He had no doubt that she was only letting him take the lead as a courtesy. He needed to stay focused, or she would take back the reigns, and Cas would be forced to deal with things on his own.

It didn’t make sense. Even if this disciple of Luke found out where Jack lived, how did he know that Jack would be at the library?

Castiel gave himself one more minute to settle, then headed back to the others. 

All chatter stopped when Cas walked back into the room, the weight of everyone’s stare felt like a tangible thing. Jody leaned against her desk, while Jimmy and Claire stared up at him from their chairs, eyes wet and filled with sympathy. Gabriel pushed off from the wall with a sigh.

“You okay?” he asked, and Castiel laughed humorously.

“I’m far from okay, but still, I apologize,” Castiel began, waving off protests to face Jody. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you too, with Jack,” Castiel shook his head and turned to his niece. “We need to figure out how this man knew Jack was going to be at the Library today.”

“Well, it’s not like we bragged about the in-school suspension, Uncle Cas. We didn’t, like, tweet about it.”

“Whoever he is,” Gabriel interjected, “he’s probably been watching Jack for a while. Pretty ballsy with two cops as guardians. To get close enough to know the kid’s Saturday schedule, without being seen?”

Castiel turned to Caire and Kaia again. “And you’re sure you didn’t recognize him? Not from around town, or the school grounds? A janitor, maybe?” They both shook their heads no, and Cas raked his hand through his hair in frustration.

Castiel started pacing, trying not to focus on how his husband was the only thing standing between a young kid’s life and a lunatic. Instead, he tried to figure out how this lackey of Pellegrino’s knew today would be his day of action.

 _Unless he didn’t_.

“What if he didn’t know? What if he just got lucky?” Castiel asked out loud.

“Meaning what?” Jody edged onto the corner of her desk. “That he was just watching and decided to give it a shot? Kinda risky, isn’t it?”

“He’s going after a kid who lives with two cops, I don’t think risk is what he’s worried about,” Castiel said. “He recognized Donna. If he's been watching for a long time, who knows who else on the force he recognizes? We need to get eyes on them, and this asshole can’t know about it.”

“I have Ash shooting me image files of Luke’s gang members,” Gabriel said. “Hopefully, the girls will recognize one of them.”

Castiel gave his partner a nod before he looked at Kaia and Claire. “Kaia, has anyone called your family?”

“Yeah, my Aunt is on her way.”

“Okay. I know this is a lot. I promise you both, you can go home soon. But we could use all the help we can get to I.D. this man, okay? If you don’t recognize any of the pictures that Officer Milton shows you, I’m going to have you work with a sketch artist.”

Castiel sighed and turned towards his brother in law. “Sam-”

“If you are about to say go home, save your breath,” Sam interrupted, and Cas rolled his eyes. “There’s got to be something I can do.”

“I wasn’t going to send you home, Sam. I was going to ask you to stick around, just in case Kaia’s aunt gives us a hard time about keeping her here for a bit. You know you’re better at smoothing feathers than I am,” Castiel said. His lawyer brother in law had a gift for de-escalating situations, and Cas would rather be prepared, just in case.

“Are you gonna call Dad and Kate?”

Castiel shook his head. “I can’t even think about that right now. All I can think about is finding this fucker so I can get Jack and my husband back.” 

Castiel looked at the clock. Nearly twenty minutes since the man had called. Who knew what had happened in those lost minutes? And time was just ticking away. He needed to know who this guy was and what his demands were.

“Castiel?” Jody called softly, and Castiel walked over to the Sheriff’s desk. “We can see the Library from the traffic cams on either side of the block. There have been no signs of movement.” 

Castiel nodded. “We need more than that. We need to get someone watching next door. Rowena’s tea shop has that roof garden. It’s not perfect, but if we get Ketch and Davies up there, maybe they’ll hear something or see something the cams don’t pick up.”

Castiel didn’t say out loud that gunshots are one of the things his fellow officers could listen for, because if he did, Castiel was pretty sure he’d be sick again. 

“Cassie?” Castiel turned towards the sound of his name, to find Gabriel holding his phone. “Ash sent me the images.”

Castiel had everyone move over to the conference room. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic in Jody’s office. Castiel sat on the edge of one of the long tables as Claire and Kaia carefully studied the photos that Ash had sent to Gabriel.

The first few pictures flew past the screen, met with a chorus of no, and Castiel fought the urge to scream. But then:

“Him! That’s him!” Claire said, excitedly, Kaia nodding along.

Castiel looked down at the picture, seeing watery blue eyes in a lean face, with a sandy-haired mustache and a sparse beard. 

_Alistair Christopher._ Yes, Cas remembered him. He’d been rumored to be closely involved in Luke’s criminal activities, but there was never enough to pin him down.

What did he want with Jack?

“We’re gonna have to talk to the feds,” Castiel murmured.

“I already put in a call to Henriksen,” Jody said. “He’s on his way.”

“Kaia? Sweetheart?”

Castiel’s head whipped up at the sound of that voice. Oh, _he_ knew that voice, Cas thought as he watched Kaia jump up from the table and rush into the elegant woman’s arms. Their eyes met over the young girl’s head, and Castiel could see Bela’s eyes widen in surprise, and what he suspected was embarrassment. Cas wondered if she was recollecting their first meeting just as he was.

_Five and a half years ago_

Delicate hands slammed down on the table between Castiel and Dean. Jimmy and Sam, who were turned towards the stage, swung back, startled at the noise. Manicured nails in fire engine red clacked a staccato beat on the scarred wooden table.

“So. It’s true then,” There was disbelief in the cultured British tones, as Castiel stared up at a regal-looking redhead glaring at Dean in pure accusation.

Dean caught Cas’ gaze and flashed him a quick grin and even quicker wink before responding to the woman.

“Hey, there, Bela,” Dean drawled, making no attempt to disentangle his hand from Cas’, thumb brushing across Castiel’s wedding ring gently.

His twin raised amused brows at Castiel, and he shrugged minutely, and relaxed, noting the smothered chuckle let out by Sam.

“This is why you broke up with me? Officer blue-eyes over here?”

“It’s detective, actually,” Castiel interjected, and Dean’s expression could only be classified as sappy when his green gaze fell on Cas’ face.

“Bela, I broke up with you before I even met Cas,” Dean said.

“Why? Because you suddenly realized you’re gay?”

Dean laughed, “No. Because you were fucking that barely legal snack shack vendor at the drive-in over in Bear Claw.”

Castiel was impressed when Bela merely lifted her chin in defiance, even as Sam and Jimmy snorted into their glasses.

Bela let her eyes linger on Castiel for the first time, and he met them with a raised brow. 

“I hope you know what you got yourself into, _Detective_ ,” she sneered, making a mockery of how he spoke his title. “Dean here has quite the reputation as a ladies man. What do you think’s going to happen when he remembers how much he misses these?” Castiel watched, astonished as Bela squeezed her breasts with no shame.

“I’ll remind myself that Cas has a ginormous cock and move on,” Dean deadpanned, shrugging when Castiel’s eyes flashed to his, brows furrowed in disbelief. “What? It’s true. Why, what were you gonna say?” Dean’s eyes narrowed,”You better not say threesome. You know I don’t share. Anymore,” he amended when Sam scoffed, and Castiel rolled his eyes.

Calling on his professionalism, Castiel cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Miss…” He let the question hang.

“Talbot. Bela Talbot.”

Castiel nodded. “Well, Ms. Talbot, while I appreciate your concern as to my well being via my marriage, I assure you it is unnecessary. I suggest you move along.” Castiel’s brother and brother-in-law wore twin expressions of _oh snap_ , whereas Dean exuded pride and what Cas easily recognized as lust.

Shock had Bela’s mouth dropping open and it was an awkward moment before she finally left their table side.

_Present_

Looking at Bela now, he saw none of the self-importance from those years ago. She was still put together, still looked like she just walked off a fashion magazine shoot, but her face was warmer; kinder.

It was Jody who took Bela aside and explained the situation. Castiel listened, with half an ear as to how she would have been here sooner, but her husband— _Kaia’s uncle_ —was at the hospital, recovering from knee surgery, and her phone had been turned off.

Now that the fucking man who had his husband had been identified, there was no reason that Kaia needed to stay or Claire for that matter. Castiel could see that Jimmy was torn between wanting to be here for Cas and keeping his daughter as far away from it as possible.

Castiel was sure Claire would have a thing or two to say about that, and wasn’t disappointed when the teenager put up a fight at his suggestion to leave. 

“Uncle Cas, I can’t go, okay? I need to stay and make sure Uncle Dean and Jack are alright.” Her eyes were liquid pools of blue, and Castiel glanced up at his brother, who he could see was two seconds away from giving in.

“Claire, sweetie, there isn’t anything you can do right now. We know who he is, and it’s up to us to—”

“Uncle Dean probably saved our lives. I’m not going until he is back here. Safe and sound.”

Castiel sighed and met Jimmy’s eyes again. His brother merely shrugged, as if to say, _you heard her._

“Fine. You can stay. But you don’t get in the way, and if it gets to be too much, you have your dad take you home,” Castiel said firmly, and Claire agreed. 

“Hey, Castiel? I do hope that Dean is okay,” Bela said. He nodded gratefully, and she led her niece out of the room after letting Kaia give Claire a hug goodbye.

Castiel spun around, looking at the clock. “Okay, I can’t wait anymore, we need to call. We need to find out what the demands are.”

“Castiel, Henriksen-”

“We don’t have time to wait for Henriksen. That’s _my_ husband in there. It’s _your_ foster child. Enough waiting,” risking the sheriff’s wrath, and not caring, Castiel picked up the phone. “What’s the fucking number to the Library?” Castiel snapped, yanking the sheet of paper with the digits out of Alfie’s hand.

The first ring had Cas’ stomach jumping. The second had him shifting, and the third had him pacing the floor. He hung up and tried again.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he gritted out as the phone continued to ring.

“They’re on the move,” Gabriel said, suddenly. He held up his phone. “Ketch says that Dean and Jack were seen coming out the back of the library. It looks like they were handcuffed together, and Alistair had a gun on them. Cas, they took the Impala.” Gabriel said, arching a brow at him knowingly.

For the first time since he had gotten the phone call from Jody, Castiel felt something ease in his chest. 

_They took the Impala._

_Four years ago_

Castiel didn’t even look up when Dean barrelled into his office and barked for Gabriel to make himself scarce. To his credit, the officer merely clapped Castiel on the shoulder on the way out the door, closing it behind him.

“You put a tracker in my car?” Dean demanded.

_Here we go._

“I did,” Castiel answered flatly, still reading over his paperwork.

“You put a tracker. In my car.” Dean bit the words out slowly, and Castiel finally spared him a glance and arched his brow. 

“Did I stutter?”

The deadpan delivery had Dean gaping like a fish as he struggled to find a suitable response. Cas’ stomach tightened as he watched Dean sink into the chair across from his desk, the anger on his face giving way to hurt.

“Cas, do you not trust me?” Dean, the wounded tone, had Cas’ armor cracking immediately as he stared at Dean in astonishment. 

“Of course I do, Dean,” Castiel said sincerely, “it’s simply for your own safety. How did you find it, anyway?”

“I was doing an oil change, and that’s beside the point. What do you mean for my safety? We live in Angel Falls. I’m more likely to be attacked by a moose than a person.”

Castiel rose from behind his desk to stand before Dean. Cas smiled when, despite his irritation, Dean parted his legs automatically. Castiel stood between them, looking at his husband of nearly a year. Dean looked up to meet his gaze when Castiel gripped his shoulders. 

“I put away a lot of bad people, Dean. People with long memories and powerful friends. However low the crime rate, Dean, I still want to keep you safe.”

The thought of anything happening to Dean… it wrecked him.

“I appreciate that, Cas. I do, more than anything. I worry about you every time you leave the house. But, sweetheart,” Castiel felt Dean’s thumb brush against his stubble. “I don’t LoJack you. Especially without your consent.”

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. He felt Dean push his hair back from his temple, and Cas felt like purring. “You're right. I should have just told you how I felt.”

“You think? You’re lucky I was alone. Can you imagine the shit the guys at the shop would have given me?” Dean asked, and Castiel had the grace to feel a little guilty. But still. He’d do it again. “I don’t know how I missed it the last time I was under her hood.”

Castiel cleared his throat, and Dean’s fingers left Cas’ hair to tug at his tie. “Sometimes, I move it around.”

Dean let out an incredulous laugh. “Seriously?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry enough to take it off?” Dean asked, but Cas was sure he knew the answer.

“No. Please, love, it will give me peace of mind.” Castiel wasn’t above begging.

Dean sighed, sliding his hands up and settling at Castiel’s waist, thumbing at his hip bones through the material of his clothes. Dean pitched his head forward and rested against Castiel's firm stomach, and Cas relished the feeling of it, as his fingers combed in Dean's hair.

“You don’t play fair,” Dean murmured, nearly purring at the scalp massage, and Cas laughed.

“Why didn’t you just tell me this was important to you?” Dean asked, pulling back enough to stare up at his husband again.

“I didn’t want to freak you out with my overprotectiveness.”

“Yeah, well. Personal space has never been your thing, has it Cas?” Dean teased, yanking Castiel down into his lap. His lips curved up in an innocent smile that was too false for words.

“You don’t mind all that much, though, do you, Dean?” 

Dean’s answer was to tug Castiel into an eager kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated. 

“Yeah, not so much,” Dean murmured against Cas’ lips.

_Present_

“Put out an APB.”

“No!” Castiel shouted.

“Castiel—” Jody started, but Cas just plowed on.

 _“_ We don’t know his state of mind. We don’t know what he wants. He sees sirens he may shoot first.” Castiel said, sharply. “I know what we need to do. Jody, please. Trust me.”

Castiel held the Sheriff's gaze, and she must have read something in them that convinced her because she sighed and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll put out the APB and ask that they not approach. For now.”

It was the best Castiel was going to get, and he knew it.

“Fine. Thank you, Gabriel? Suit up.”


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey, hey, hey," Dean said, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he stared down the barrel of a 9mm. Dean could hear Alex breathing sharply behind him. Dean held out his arm protectively, though logically, Dean knew it would do nothing to stop a bullet.

"Whatever you need, man, I'm sure you don't need this kid to get it."

It sent chills up Dean's spine when the man merely threw back his head and laughed. 

"You see, that's where you're wrong, sonny. This kid has everything I need."

Dean fought the urge to look back at Alex, not willing to take his eyes off the man in front of him. Up close, his face was scruffy and thin, with light eyes that were wet and red-rimmed. It seemed to match his wispy, nasally voice.

"Alex, do you know what he's talking about?"

The man laughed again, and it was like an oil slick going down Dean's spine.

"Is that what he's going by? Tsk tsk tsk," the man clicked his tongue. "It isn't polite to lie, Jack," the man's teeth clicked on the name as he cocked his head. "Why don't we have a seat, and you tell Mr. Guidance Counselor here, how we know each other?" Dean swallowed down the question of how the man knew what his job was. 

At the urging of the waving gun, Dean and Jack sat down at the table behind them. Dean glanced at his cell phone, but the click of the safety had his eyes darting back up to the man.

"Ah ah ah," the man said, leaning forward to grab Dean's phone off of the table. "You'd be dead before you could swipe." Dean's phone was dropped and crushed under the heel of steel-toed boots. 

"Now, Jack. Introductions. Tell Guidance Counselor Winchester the scoop,"

Well, that was a little disturbing. Had this man been at the school? Dean shifted his gaze to the boy sitting beside him, Jack's face somber and resigned.

"This is Alastair. He helped Luke Pellegrino kill my mother."

 _Luke Pellegrino._ Dean had heard of that case. The man was a real estate mogul, whose secretary had found proof that he was embezzling millions. When she threatened to go to the police, she was murdered. Dean had never heard anything about a son, though.

Alistair shrugged his shoulders. "I never laid a hand on her. All I did was make sure she was in the right place at the wrong time. Not that they could prove it. But she had the last laugh, didn't she, Jack? Got herself a nice little nest egg hidden somewhere, and Jack here knows where," Alistair growled, once again pointing the gun at the young man.

 _Keep him talking._ Is all Dean could think. 

"Let's be reasonable here, okay?" Dean held out his hand. _Keep him talking._ That's what he was supposed to do, wasn't it? To buy time?

Whatever Alistair was going to say, he bit back, when the sound of a car rolling up to the curb caught his eye. His eyebrows rose, and his watery blue eyes flashed on Dean.

"Do you know how I knew Jackie here was going to be joining you today, Mr. Winchester?" Alistair said conversationally, though every line of the man was rigid. "I work at the school. They really should vet better. No one pays attention to the custodians, do they? Who pays attention to the man cleaning up puke and unsticking gum?"

Dean swallowed, eyes darting to the glass front door and back to Alistair's face, jumping when the man tossed a pair of cuffs at them. "You. Attach yourself to the kid. Right now," Keeping his gun trained on them, Dean did as he was told, trying to send Jack a reassuring smile as he tethered them together with a sharp metal click.

"No one pays attention to me. No one notices me. But I see them. Just like I recognize Officer Hanscum and her friend out there. "

Jack inhaled sharply beside Dean. 

"Now, why on earth would your foster mother be camped outside of the library when I expressly heard you and your friends talking about walking home together after detention. Going to the movies, weren't you?" Alistair made his way behind the reference desk, being sure to keep the gun pointed at Dean and Jack, and picked up the phone.

"Now, Mr. Winchester," Alistair said, tauntingly, "you didn't happen to send those two girls out for help, did you? What was it that tipped you off?"

Alistair slammed his hand down on the desk when Dean didn't answer right away. "WHAT. WAS. IT?" he bellowed, and Dean had to fight to keep his voice steady.

"Your gun. Your gun was showing."

Within a few seconds, Alistair was dialing. He grinned, menacingly, when whoever was on the other line answered the phone.

"Oh, I'd be happy to," Alistair spoke into the receiver. "For starters, the officers you don't think I see watching outside are hindering my exit. So unless you want high school guidance counselor guts splattered all over the books in this place, I suggest you ask them to skedaddle." When Alistair hung up the phone, all Dean could think about was Cas. His husband was going to freak. The fuck. Out.

His heart was pounding, but he had to stay calm. He had to be like Cas. Cas would know what to do in this situation, and it wouldn't be Dean's M.O. of jumping with his eyes closed. Dean had to be smart about this. He needed to get him and Jack out of this with the least amount of damage. Preferably, no damage at all.

"What if… what if Jack tells me wherever this money stash is, and you and I go get it? We take my car and go. The cops are gone. We sneak out the back, leave Jack here—"

"How stupid do you think I am?" Alastair snarled, leaving the desk and getting right up close to Dean's face. "Why shouldn't I just shoot you right now and take Jack with me?"

It was a good question, and Dean reckoned he needed to come up with an answer quickly.

"I'm just saying you don't need to add murder to your list of crimes, buddy. I mean, that's how you've stayed out of trouble, right? Not doing the dirty work? You start leaving bodies… there goes your wiggle room with the cops. We ditch the kid, you take whatever secret stash his mom hid, and I go home."

"Why are you offering yourself up so freely, Dean? What's the catch? Aside from not wanting to bleed to death on this hardwood floor?"

Dean's palms were sweaty, and he fought from clenching his fists, wanting to appear cool and collected.

"No catch, man. I got family, I got friends that I love. This kid here included," Dean said, rattling his and Jack's cuffed hands. "So, if getting you out of here and out of their lives will let me do that, then I'll fucking drive you to the North Pole if that's what you need. But you need to make a decision, because the cops will only hold back for so long," 

Dean swallowed. No way was he telling Alistair that one of those cops was among the people he loved. "If you kill me, they'll never stop chasing you. As long as me and the kid are alive, you got a shot," Dean could feel his heart pounding as he pleaded his case.

"They may be smalltown cops, but they still got brains. They're gonna call back and ask for terms. Let's go before they notice we're gone." The fact that his husband was a paranoid fucker — _okay, so this time it was warranted_ — who lojacked his car could actually come in handy. In fact, Dean was counting on it.

Dean could only hope he was reading the desperate, wild look in Alistair's eyes correctly, and that the gunman knew this was his only chance to get what he wanted. The man was definitely one fry short of a Happy Meal, and Dean wondered if he'd always been this way, or if he had just spun out with his boss in jail. Some people always needed a leader; some didn't know how to function without a dominating presence. Dean wanted to use that weakness to his advantage.

"Look," Dean implored, keeping his gaze firm on Alistair's, ignoring how the man's putrid breath panted in his face. "Jack will tell me where to go. We leave him—"

"No! We’ll go. But the boy comes with us."

Dean swallowed and looked at Jack and found the kid surprisingly calm as he met Dean's eyes head-on. 

"Only if you promise to take what you need and let us go. Money, diamonds, whatever the fuck it is, you grab it and go, and Jack and I walk. Take my car, whatever," _I'm sorry, Baby_. "Leave us on the side of the road and get out of dodge, cuz if you kill him, us," Dean gestured with his free hand, "You'll be done. They'll find you, and there won't be any of that getting off on technicality bullshit."

All three of them jerked when the phone at the desk began to ring. Dean wanted so badly to use the distraction to take Alistair out, but he had a gun, and God forbid Jack was hurt. Not to mention, with Dean handcuffed to Jack, it made kicking low-life ass much harder.

The phone kept ringing, but Alistair just continued to glare at them, muscle in his face twitching.

"You got one chance. One." Dean bit out. Alistair expelled a reedy breath.

"You better not even think of playing me, boy, or I'll kill you both, risk or not."

The phone had stopped ringing, but as Alistair raised his gun and urged Dean and Jack to move, it started again, and Dean prayed he made the right decision. He prayed that Castiel would forgive him for his recklessness, but it seemed like the only way to protect the kid. 

Dean took out his keys and used Garth's to unlock the backdoor with the gun pressing on his back. He walked to his Baby's driver's side door and held out his wrist that was still attached to Jack's. 

Alistair looked down and sneered. "Make it work," he said, opening the door himself. "Get in."

Dean ground his teeth and urged Jack in first, then slid in himself. Alistair walked around the hood of the car, weapon pointed at them the whole way and quickly got in through the passenger side door. He instantly aimed the gun at Jack, who was now squished between them.

"One false move and this bullet will go straight through his head and into yours, you understand me? Now, where are we going, kid?" Allistair asked. Dean's eyes widened, he'd been so set on just getting them out that it didn't occur to him that Jack would be put on the spot now.

Turns out he needn't have worried, as Jack looked straight ahead, voice not wavering for a second. 

"North Cove. Washington."


	7. Chapter 7

After putting on his Kevlar vest, Castiel had left Gabriel to put on his own and all but ran outside to the parking lot. He didn't even pretend to be surprised when he found Sam leaning against his Continental. Expecting the younger Winchester to stay behind when the older brother who practically raised him was in danger would have been naive at best.

Castiel already had his phone open, and his app turned on, the red dot representing the Impala blinking at him like a little heartbeat. He was pretty sure it was the only thing keeping him sane right now.

"Cas, I'm coming with you," Sam said, arms folded across his massive chest in an attempt to appear intimidating. If his puppy dog eyes weren't so vulnerable and scared, he might have pulled it off. 

"Sam—" Castiel started, looking back at the building, wondering what the fuck was taking Gabriel so long.

"C'mon, Cas, that's my brother out there with some lunatic. I can't just sit by and—"

"Yes. Yes, you can, Sam. I get that you're scared. Believe me, I am terrified. That's your brother, but he is also _my_ husband. And if anything happened to you on my watch, Dean would never forgive me. Not to mention, you're not a cop! Do you honestly think Jody would allow this?"

"She seems pretty okay with letting you run the show right now." Sam pointed out testily, and okay, yes, that was true.

"That's only because she knows I'd be going after him regardless," Castiel said with an arched brow, spinning back to the door, fighting the urge to yank at his hair. _Jesus fuck, Gabriel, what is taking so long?_

"Sam," Castiel tried for patience as he leveled his brother in law with a calm look. "I need you here. I need you where you are at your best. Research. I need to find out where Alistair is taking Dean; I need to find out _before_ they get there so I can be waiting. Please."

"Cassie's right, Sammich," Gabriel said, jogging up behind him. "But there is something else you can do for us too. Your truck."

Sam's brows rose in confusion. "My truck?"

Gabriel nodded, and it only took Castiel a second to catch on. If Alistair had been watching the station and all of the officers going in and out, chances were he might recognize Cas' car. The pimpmobile, as Dean liked to call it, was hard to miss.

"It makes sense for us to go after Dean in a vehicle that Alistair would have less chance of recognizing."

"You know, Cas, eventually they're bound to ditch the car. It's not exactly a subtle vehicle," Gabriel said.

"Maybe, maybe not. Stealing someone else's ride isn't exactly unobtrusive either. Sam," Castiel held out his hand. "Keys? You can take mine until I get back."

"Cas, I really think—"

"Look, Sam. I love you like a brother, but I don't have time for this. Right now, I should be on the road, going after my husband, not standing here arguing with you. Now give me your goddamn keys!"

Castiel saw his brother and his niece heading out the precinct door, but he didn't even stop. He snatched the keys out of Sam's hand, and tossed him his own. 

"If you have any information or if something comes up, call Gabe's phone. I'm using mine to track Dean. Gabriel, move. What the fuck took you so long to get out here, anyway?" Castiel knew he was harsh, that realistically it hadn't been more than a few minutes, but every spare moment not behind the wheel was too long right now. 

"Well, you were in such a hurry—" Castiel merely glared, and Gabriel held up his hands in submission.

"Understandably so, but we needed things. Some extra chargers, for example," Gabriel huffed as he hoisted himself into the passenger seat of Sam's Ford, and Castiel would have laughed if he weren't too busy being scared to death. "Wireless, which by the age of this thing is probably good. Can you even plug in a charger in this old thing? Sammykins is a lawyer, why the fuck is he driving this piece of shit?"

Castiel rolled his eyes, buckling his seatbelt. "Wasn't it you who recommended we take the damn thing? Besides, Dean rebuilt this truck for Sam. It runs better now than it did when it came out," he said with pride. Dean may be a high school guidance counselor, but he knew engines like the back of his hand. 

"Yeah, well. Anyway, I also got Henriksen's direct line, so Jody doesn't have to play the go-between. He's going to be in touch as soon as he arrives. I also made sure to let your brother know we'd be in touch, but also not to call your cell. "

"Fine," Castiel bit out, then took a deep breath. "Thank you," he said. "And I'm sorry. I'm just…"

"I know. It's okay."

"Just keep an eye on the phone. No distractions, we're already too far behind," Castiel turned onto I-94 west. "Can you text Jody, give her Sam's license plate number? I don't want trouble with the state police because I happen to go over the speed limit."

"On it," Gabriel said, opening the glove compartment and digging out Sam's registration.

"I'm coming, Dean," Castiel murmured under his breath. "Hang on, my love."

******

_3 years ago_

Dean leaned over the hood of the 1987 Ford, giving Castiel a fantastic view of his firm ass. Knowing what happened the last time Castiel surprised Dean while he was under the hood, he decided to remain a silent observer and save their night from ending at the hospital with a concussion like last time

Instead, he just leaned against the garage door and enjoyed the picture in front of him. Dean really was a remarkable specimen of a man. Narrow waist, gorgeous bowed legs that wrapped around Castiel so perfectly, he swore that Dean was made for him. His tee-shirt rode up just enough to show off a slip of the freckled skin of his back, and Castiel nearly pouted because it wasn't warm enough for Dean to go shirtless.

"I can feel you staring at me, you creeper," Dean stepped back, turning to flash him a quick wink before he closed the hood. He walked over to the industrial sink and began to scrub his hands with Fast Orange to get the grease out. "Hand me a rag, please?"

Castiel grabbed one of the clean microfiber towels Dean kept in a bucket on the shelf next to him and tossed it over. 

"How's she running?" Castiel asked, and Dean smiled even wider, drying his hands.

"I'm so proud of you for saying she instead of it," Dean teased, and Castiel laughed. "And good. I'm just about finished. Gonna wax her tomorrow."

Dean was an amazing brother. When Sam mentioned that he was thinking about getting an old truck for his weekend campouts and hiking, his prissy Prius—Dean's words— was not really dirt road-friendly, Dean had taken it upon himself to find one for him. Thankfully, Dean's Uncle Bobby ran a salvage yard and sold the beat-up F Ford series at the family discount. Sam's birthday was in a few months, and Dean wanted to surprise his younger brother with the gift. 

Castiel knew the younger Winchester would be a combination of grateful and exasperated, often citing that Dean had done quite enough for him during their lifetime. But that was who Dean was. A giver and a nurturer, sometimes to the detriment of his own needs.

"You know, you worked straight through dinner, my love." Castiel smiled softly as Dean blushed at the words, endearments making him both happy and embarrassed at the same time.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I hope you didn't wait for me," He said, flipping the switch on the wall and killing the garage lights.

Castiel shrugged. "It's just stew in the crockpot. It'll keep. I thought maybe you'd like to share a shower with me," he cocked his head invitingly as Dean followed him into the house through the laundry room.

"I don't see how I could say no to that invitation," Dean said, tangling their fingers, eagerly.

Pausing at the entryway of their bathroom, Castiel gently pushed Dean against the wall.

"Lucky me," Castiel said, flashing a grin before claiming Dean's mouth with his own.

******

_Present_

Gabriel's shrill ringtone cut through Castiel's reverie, and he glanced at his partner out of the corner of his eye.

"It's Henriksen," Gabriel said, and Castiel nodded.

"Okay. Put him on speaker."

"Henriksen? This is Novak, go ahead," Castiel said, skipping over the pleasantries. Henriksen didn't seem to mind as he jumped right in.

"From what we could find out, it was rumored that Jack's mother had a large sum of money hidden. Our guess is that that is what Alistair is after."

"He thinks Jack knows where it is," Gabriel said, and Henriksen made a sound of affirmation.

"I need every known location that Jack's mother could have potentially stashed the money," Castiel said. "If that is where they are headed, I want to get there first."

Castiel zoned out the rest of the conversation, focused on the road ahead of him and _Dean, Dean, Dean_.

  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Dean thought back to when he was a kid, sitting in the Impala's back seat, bitching when Sam would put his legs in Dean's space. Or how they would fight over the space between them. _Sammy, my army men are standing there, move your legos!_ He wished for that kind of space now, as Jack was shoved up against to him. Alistair sat sideways, back against the passenger door, so he could continue to level his gun at them. Dean was trying to be patient. How long could the guy be on guard anyway? His arms were bound to get tired, hell _he_ was bound to get tired.

They'd been driving for hours. There were still plenty of hours to go. North Cove, Washington wasn't exactly a hop, skip, and a jump from Angel Valley, Vermont. More like forty-five hours, and that's without stopping for bathroom breaks and tolls. Alistair had forced them to piss on the side of the road, refusing to uncuff them. 

Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, wishing for anything, music, a book on tape, _anything_ aside from the oppressive sound of Alistair's breathing and heavy gaze. Miraculously, Jack appeared to be dozing, and Dean wouldn't deny being slightly jealous of him for that. Shadows danced in patterns over the car's interior when the moon wasn't obscured by clouds, the light making his ring gleam.

Fuck, he missed Cas. Dean couldn't even begin to imagine the fear he was putting his husband through right now. God knows if it were the other way around, Dean would be a mess. The idea of not making it out of this, of not ever seeing those eyes looking at him with that always present fathomless love, made him ache inside.

He had to get out of this. For Jack’s sake as well as his own. So he could bury his face in Castiel's neck and feel his strong arms around him, never letting him go.

"Tell me about your wife, Dean." Alistair's nasally voice broke the quiet of the ride, and Dean's stomach turned at the sound. His captor tutted when Dean didn't answer.

"Don't be shy. I wanna hear all about sweet Mrs. Winchester. I assume she is one of those loved ones you wanted me so far away from.”

Dean swallowed and affected a casual shrug. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not married," he lied smoothly. When Castiel came for him— _and, Dean was sure that he would_ — Dean refused to be used as a weapon or a bargaining chip. "This is my mom's ring. She died when I was a kid. My dad gave it to me before he kicked the bucket when I was seventeen."

It was true, he did have his mother's ring, but it was kept safe in a small box of mementos in the back of his and Cas' closet. The ring he wore now was a simple design, a platinum band, with a wide circle flush to the facing. The inscription on the inside said _I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine_ from the Song of Solomon, and their wedding vows, which Castiel liked to quote when he was feeling overly romantic.

Dean saw Alistair's fingers out of the corner of his eye, the ones not clenched around his gun, tapping agitatedly on his leg. Again, Dean was hit with the knowledge that this man was not all there. Obviously, he was a psychopath. But the fact that he even went along with Dean's plan when any sane madman— _and wasn't that a juxtaposition_ —would have just shot Dean and taken Jack, leaving him for dead. Not that Dean was gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, but damn if it didn't make him nervous. 

"You know, Al," Dean said, catching the man's eye twitch at the nickname giving him a perverse sense of satisfaction, "we're gonna have to stop sometime eventually. I can't drive all night, I'm gonna fall asleep at the wheel."

Alistair snorted. "Right, We'll just get us a hotel room, where your ostentatious car will be a shining beacon for the police. I don't think so."

Dean scowled. He may have been scared out of his wits, but nobody talked about his Baby like that. "Well, what do you suggest, man, cause I am pretty sure you ain't gonna be spending any of this money you're after if you're a pancake on the back of a Mack truck. We need sleep and we need food. These are the kind of things you should probably think of when you have two hostages."

"Don't get mouthy, Dean."

"I'm just saying, we can still let Jack go. 'Lot less to worry about than when there's just one of us for you to have to worry about. I mean, do you even have any money? What happens when we run out of gas?"

"Shut up!" Alistair barked, and Jack shifted next to Dean but somehow stayed asleep. "Here's what we're going to do. You're gonna drive until I tell you to stop, and when I _do_ tell you to stop, you're going to find us some off the beaten path road to hide this beast _",_ he said snidely. 

Alistair grabbed a pill bottle out of his pocket and popped it open one-handed. He shotgunned two pills, swallowing harshly, and Dean wondered what the fuck he'd just taken. "I'll give you two hours, then we're back on the road. And I swear to God, Dean, if you even try to fuck me over, I will kill you. You see, I am not all that worried about leaving your dead body behind. No one's going to shoot at me if they still think you're behind the wheel." It was said flatly, and Dean couldn't help the flash of fear that that was precisely what Alistair planned to do anyway. If that was the case, he hoped Castiel never found his body. Seeing it would break him.

"Does Pellegrino even know what you're up to?"

"No," Alastair sneered. "He says he's found God and wants to accept his punishment. Those of us left in the wind beg to differ."

"So, what? You got other people waiting for a cut of this?" Dean asked, knowing that the more details he had, the better. He was married to a detective, after all.

"What the fuck do you think this is, twenty questions?" Alistair barked, and Jack jolted awake next to Dean. He noticed that Alistair's pupils were blown wide and wondered again what substance he had taken, because apparently, it kicked in fast.

"Just watch the road and keep driving."

"Where are we," Jack asked quietly.

"Buffalo. About to hit a toll," Dean warned, cursing as he narrowly avoided a honda that cut him off. "Dick."

Alistair blindly reached in the back, grabbing at the blanket Dean and Castiel kept in the back for stargazing. He dragged it into the front, and Dean realized what it was for as Alistair draped it over himself, gun covered but still pointing at Dean and Jack, tenting the green and plaid wool.

It had been nearly eight hours, and Dean hoped they would be able to stop soon. Even more, he hoped that Cas and the calvary weren't far behind. Dean wondered if it even occurred to Alistair that Dean's car would be on camera as they passed through the toll booth. Judging by the manic look in his hopped-up eyes, he doubted it.

Figures that Dean would be trapped with the world's dumbest criminal and unable to take advantage of it. 

Traffic slowed to a crawl as the vehicles moved into different toll lanes.

"That one," Alistair pointed at the exact change lane, one of the automated booths that didn't even have an attendant. 

As they sailed through the toll, Dean's thoughts once again turned to Cas. He imagined him, somehow, not far behind, blue eyes fierce and face set with determination. Dean ached for him, praying for this nightmare to be over. 

They crossed over into Pennsylvania, and Dean's jaw cracked as he yawned. 

"Dude, I'm serious. We need to stop."

"Yes, and I need to urinate again," Jack piped up at Dean, who had to choke back a hysterical laugh. Dean thought his husband was the only one who spoke so bluntly.

"Fine. Take the next exit, Dean. And if you fuck around-"

"I know. You'll shoot me. Dead body. Blah, blah, blah." 

"That attitude is going to be the death of you, Mr. Winchester," Alistair warned, oil slick voice dousing any slight humor Dean had been feeling. He needed to chill out. He needed to keep it cool. 

Dean's stomach growled audibly when he saw the McDonald's sign. 

"Go in the drive-thru," Alistair fished a twenty out of his pocket. 

Dean looked over at Jack as they sat in the line, golden arches looming in front of them. 

"You doin', okay?" Dean asked, and Jack managed a small smile.

"As well as can be expected," Jack said with a nod.

When it was their turn at the speaker, Alistair spoke, smoothing his snake-oil vice into something everyday Joe. He ordered six bottles of water and six burgers off the dollar menu. Despite Dean's thirst and hunger, he worried that he'd even be able to choke it down.

It turned out to be an unfounded fear when as soon as the smell hit the car, his stomach gurgled again. Since Dean couldn't eat and drive with his hand handcuffed to Jack's, Alistair had them eat in the parking lot, reminding them to make it quick, eating so fast he was sure to have a stomach ache. He downed half of one of his waters in one long chug. Dean and Jack each ate one-handed and his shirt was littered with diced onion bits and a glob of ketchup when he was finished, which Dean brushed off with a grimace. 

Dean winced when Alistair grabbed their trash and tossed it into the back seat of his car. Hunger sated, Alistair had Dean start driving again. The food gave him a burst of energy, and it was another hour before he started complaining about needing sleep. Alistair had him stop at the rest area gas station, paying the extra for full service instead of trusting Dean and Jack alone in the car to pump the gas himself.

Dean gave a painstaking grin when the attendant made an odd face. He imagined three grown—almost grown in Jack's case—men crammed in the front seat of the car when there was obvious room in the back was an odd sight. 

With a full tank of gas, Dean continued along the highway for another forty-five minutes. They were in Pennsylvania now, heading towards Ohio, but that would be hours from now, which wasn't going to work for him. Jack was dozing again, and Dean was just about to speak when Alistair told him to get off the exit. 

They drove for a few miles on a quiet road lined with acres of farmland and silos. When they came to a crossroads, Dean nodded his head toward a burnt-out barn that sat back on what looked like an abandoned field with a weathered for sale sign sticking out of the ground. At Alistair's nod of acquiescence, Dean gingerly drove across the property and parked behind the barn, hiding the Impala from the main road's view.

Alistair allowed them to get out and stretch, taking the keys from Dean's hands before they left the car. Dean and Jack awkwardly turned their back on each other so they could pee, pain in his bladder overcoming any embarrassment. 

To make sleep more comfortable, Dean got in the back seat, through the passenger side, letting Jack climb in first, and then up into the front driver's side. Their hands dangle in the middle, still cuffed, but this way, Dean could still lay out. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could pretend that this was something else. That he was just taking a nap in the car during a long road trip, like when he and Cas drove all the way to the Grand Canyon a few summers ago. Though how he was supposed to relax enough for that fantasy with a gun pointed at his head, Dean wasn't sure.

Exhaustion, however, won out, and Dean fell asleep, hoping the two-hour reprieve would be long enough for Cas to catch up with them.

  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

_4 1/2 years ago_

"I feel stupid," Castiel complained as he walked with Dean through the fairgrounds. The sun was beating down on him, and the long brown tunic he wore paired with the cheap imitation deerskin britches did nothing to alleviate the heat.

"Why?" Dean asked, around a large bite of a turkey leg. "You look smokin'."

Castiel rolled his eyes, though his lips did tick up in a half-smile at the compliment. Cas didn't think he'd ever get over the butterfly feeling he got in his stomach whenever his new husband looked at him so adoringly. 

"I look like a sweaty guy in a potato sack," he said dryly.

"A _sexy_ , sweaty guy in a potato sack," Dean countered as he tossed the turkey leg in a barrel with a sign that said _Ye Olde Trashbin_. 

"You're such a dork," Castiel said, laughing and hummed when Dean pulled him in for a kiss.

"You still married me," Dean said against his lips, and Castiel smiled.

"Yeah, well. You're pretty sexy too," Castiel teased. It was true. Like their first meeting, Dean, was dressed in chainmail, sword strapped to his side, clad in stretchy leggings that only accentuated his deliciously bowed-legs.

"Seriously, thanks for doing this with me. I know there are a thousand other things you'd rather be doing," Dean said as they walked through the throngs of elves, orcs, and fairies milling about the camp. The Moondoor Faire was a LARPing event that ran from April through the end of October, culminating in a battle for the throne. Charlie had been crowned queen the last three years running, requiring her handmaiden to be present and accounted for in her court .

"I'm always happy to spend time with you, beloved," Castiel said, knowing the endearment would make Dean blush. "Besides, we made a deal. Moondoor today, Apiary tomorrow," laughing when Dean winced.

"Tell me again why you want to keep bees?" Dean groused, stopping at a concession stand for two tankards of ale, which they carried over to a picnic table under a large maple tree.

"I didn't say I wanted to keep them," Castiel said, chuckling when instead of sitting next to him, Dean settled across his thighs, draping an arm around Cas' shoulders. Despite the heat, Castiel sighed happily, free arm encircling Dean's waist, fingertips playing with his chainmail. "I just said I wanted to know what the process is _in case_ I want to keep them."

"Gotcha," Dean said with a nod. 

"Hey, hey, check out Gabriel," Castiel said with a cackle, pointing at his Partner Gabriel, who was for once, not doing security. Instead, he was stuck in the Pillory, head and arms sticking out of the cutouts in the plank of wood erected to a post. A sign hung around his neck, declaring him a pie thief.

"Hey, Gabriel," Dean called out. "Enjoying your first time?"

"Haha," Gabe yelled back. "I'd flip you off, but I can't turn my wrist."

Dean tossed his head back, laughing, and Castiel couldn't resist turning his head towards the sun-warmed skin of Dean's neck and tasting the skin.

Dean moaned quietly, in pleasure, having no such problem with Castiel publicly marking him. If anything, he tilted his head further to the side, in invitation. Castiel eagerly trailed his lips up until he caught Dean's earlobe with his teeth, nibbling gently.

"Hey! Don't start that shit in front of me," Gabriel yelled at them. "Excuse me! Queen Charlie!" he bellowed. "Guards! I want them in the stocks for public pornography!"

"You have no power here, thief!" Dean hollered back, eyes still closed as Castiel mouthed on the patch of Dean collarbone now exposed by his persistent tugging.

Castiel absolutely did not pout when Dean shifted in his lap, and caused Castiel’s mouth to break it’s suction from his lover’s salty skin. Dean placed his beverage over Castiel’s shoulder onto the picnic table next to his, and looped his arms around Castiel’s neck.

"I love you," he murmured, softness in his green and gold irises, and Castiel reached up, carding his fingers through the silky strands of Dean's hair.

"I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine," Castiel quoted softly, and Dean smiled brilliantly at that before his mouth swooped down to steal a heart-stopping kiss.

As their tongues tangled together, the faint taste of ale and sugary frybread added to the sweetness. Castiel tried to ignore Gabriel's cries of protest. 

_"Cassie!"_

Dean's hand threaded in Cas' hair, gripping the back of his head, and Castiel groaned into his mouth, kiss turning deeper, darker.

_“Castiel! Castiel, wake up!”_

_Present_

A hard pinch to Castiel's thigh had his gasping, jolting awake, all at once annoyed at Gabriel chuckling beside him in the driver's seat and bereft that he wasn't really with Dean. Just a memory that had his chest tightening with longing.

"Assbutt," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

"Sorry, partner, but you were starting to make bedroom noises, and I am so not here for that."

"It's fine. I can't believe I actually fell asleep anyway," Castiel grumbled, having switched places with Gabriel after a stop at a McDonald's in Buffalo, NY. A quick interview with some employees found that Dean, Jack, and Alistair had indeed swung through. The relief at hearing it confirmed that Dean wasn't hurt had been nearly euphoric. 

"I can. You've been running on fear and adrenaline, and if we're gonna catch this guy, you need to be fresh," Gabriel said.

Castiel picked up his cell phone, checking for the reassuring red dot showing Dean was still traveling on I-94. His husband was in Ohio. Cas scanned the highway signs, groaning when he saw that they were still in Pennsylvania.

"Relax, Cassie," Gabriel said, noting his distress, "We'll catch up. They were stopped for a good two hours before they started moving again. I'm guessing Alistair had to let Dean sleep a bit. We'd have already overtaken them if it weren't for the work being done on the interstate," Gabriel side-eyed him. "I'm glad you were asleep for that, you would have been cursing up a blue streak if you'd been awake."

Castiel didn't doubt it.

"Have you heard from the station?" Castiel asked, drinking from the warm water bottle that sat in the cupholder. "Henriksen?"

"The general consensus is that Alistair is headed to Washington. Jack's mother had a cabin out there. According to Henriksen, Pelligrino had a recent come-to-Jesus moment. Who knows if it's genuine or not, but apparently he was willing to talk and said that Alistair had been obsessed, insisting that Kelly Kline had stashed away funds she stole from Pelligrino when she found out his scheme."

"Did she?"

"He says no. He also said that Alistair is batcrap crazy. He suspects Alistair is the one who lured Kelly to the office the night she was shot, pretending to be one of the detectives on the case."

"Pelligrino has admitted to the shooting, then?"

"Yes, though he still insists it was an accident."

"Hmm," Castiel said with a frown. "So, more like a partial coming to Jesus," he said sarcastically. 

"Do we have an address in Washington?"

"Somewhere in North Cove. Jody is already in contact with the authorities there. A Deputy Rufus Turner has already sent officers in to search the place and lay in wait. She said not to get all bent out of shape about it, either. Assuming it's even where they’re headed. Even if we can't catch up to them before they get there, Alistair won't make it out without cuffs on."

"I don't care who arrests him, so long as my husband and Jack get out of this alive," Castiel said hotly.

"I know, partner, I know."

Frustration welled up inside of Castiel, and he rubbed at his temple. 

"And this is all assuming that Washington is their destination. Based on what? The general direction of the car? Has Jack even ever mentioned the place to Jody? If he knew about some secret money, wouldn't he have said long before now?"

Gabriel snorted. "Maybe, maybe not. You're a kid who's been through hell. You're finally close to being eighteen and on your own. Do you tell someone about the money stashed away that could help you disappear and start over, or do you turn it over to the people who couldn't protect your mother?"

"From what Dean has said about the boy, stealing and running away isn't something this kid would do," Castiel muttered. "Maybe there is something at that cabin. Just not what Alistair thinks. Something that belongs to Jack; something worth lying about."

"Davies and Ketch searched the library, too. Found Dean's phone smashed and his laptop. Apparently, your husband's idea of in-school suspension meant watching Doctor Sexy and eating pie," Gabriel said. Castiel let out a laugh that was borderline sob.

"I want him back, Gabriel. I want him back, in my arms."

"We're gonna get him back, Cassie. I promise. And look. We just crossed into Ohio."

Castiel wiped his tearing eyes and looked at the _Welcome to Ohio_ sign. They were close. Closer than Castiel thought, and he thanked God for the two-hour break that allowed this catch-up.

"Hang in there, Dean," Castiel muttered, straightening up in his seat. "I'm coming."

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Dean had a pain in his ass and a cramp in his leg that was well on its way to becoming a charlie horse. But all of that was nothing compared to the bitching going on on the passenger side of the car.

Alistair was unraveling at warp speed, punching the dashboard and screaming obscenities at the standstill traffic in front of them. He had taken some more pills, and his drugged-out eyes were even more watery than before, the bags under them looked big enough to carry luggage. No surprise, as it had been nearly 2am when Dean had been given his two-hour nap, and just after four am, before the sun had even peaked over the horizon, by the time they were back on the road. Alastair had been awake for all of it, and whatever drug he was using to keep him alert was doing nothing for his chill.

"Get us the fuck out of this jam, Dean! Was this part of your plan all along? Out here like sitting ducks in this monstrosity of a car?"

Dean pleaded with any god out there for patience, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and taking a deep breath, before sending Alastair a cheeky smile.

"Yes, you figured out my whole plan. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that none of us have a phone or GPS. No, I used my amazing psychic powers to predict a pile-up on the freeway, just to piss off the guy holding a gun on me and my student. I thought, _hmm. How can I make this situation better?_ Oh, I know, let's prolong it by not taking a different route, and purposely getting stuck in a traffic jam!"

So much for patience.

Alastair reached over Jack and pistol-whipped Dean so hard he saw stars and nearly let go of the wheel. Jack grabbed it for him as Dean hissed, feeling blood from his temple trickle down the side of his face.

"Don't you mouth off at me, boy."

"Son of a bitch," Dean gritted out as Jack mopped up his face with some leftover McDonald's wrappers. He glanced in the rearview mirror to survey the damage, grateful that his pupils looked normal. So far, anyway. It was hard to tell. His eyes felt like they were burning from exhaustion anyway. Like he needed a concussion on top of everything else.

"It looks like it's starting to open up ahead, "Jack said, voice shaky, and Dean could see that he was right. 

"Yeah," Dean murmured, head still throbbing. "They must have finally cleared the accident."

The news seemed to settle Alistair down as they slowly began to creep along.

"Jack, what's in North Cove?" Dean murmured quietly.

"My grandparents' cabin. We used to go there all the time, they left it to her when they died, but we haven't been there in a few years."

Dean chanced a look at Alastair, but the man seemed to be staring straight through them, though his gun hand remained steady.

They passed the off-ramp and picked up more speed, only to slow down again, temporarily at the on-ramp. Dean shifted over to the middle lane to avoid getting stuck behind the new vehicles merging onto the highway.

Dean wished for his music to get lost in as they drove along, and decided to take a chance by turning on the radio. Remarkably, Alistair said nothing. Perhaps he needed the distraction as well. 

"Hey, Jack, find us something decent, would ya? None of that emo shit Claire listens to," Dean said and felt a little proud when Jack laughed. 

"Damn, that's a lot of Christian and Country music," Dean mused as Jack tried to find something that wouldn't make his ears bleed or make him feel guilty for not going to church. Jack finally found a station airing the Top 40, and Dean resolved himself to dealing with Taylor Swift, who, okay, he didn't totally hate. When he found himself singing along to Lizzo, Dean realized he'd been working with teenagers for far too long. 

  
With the stall in traffic, it was nearly eleven when they hit the next toll, entering Indiana, still on the I-90 headed west. Dean's heart leapt in his throat when for a split second, he could have sworn he saw his brother's truck.

 _Holy shit._ That _was_ his brother's truck. Hard to forget a vehicle he spent weeks fixing up in secret. _Cas_. It had to be Cas. 

Dean always knew his husband would be coming after him, but having it confirmed left him feeling slightly giddy with relief. 

"Dean, I want you to take the next exit," Alastair's voice almost startled him as Dean kept glancing in his rearview, searching for Sam's truck again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cas.

"What? Why?"

"We sat in that traffic for too long. I imagine there is a _BOLO_ out on this car, and I don't plan on being a sitting duck at the next toll station."

"Okay, and where the hell are we gonna go?"

"If you don't want this gun to kiss your face again, drop the attitude. I saw a sign for Walmart."

"You want to go shopping?" Dean asked, incredulously.

"No, you moron, I want to ditch this beast and boost another car."

"Do you even know how to boost a car?" Dean asked.

"Won't stealing another car be just as risky as staying in this one?" Jack asked, and Alastair snapped.

"That's enough! Stop asking me questions. I have the gun, I make the fucking rules. GET OFF AT THE NEXT EXIT," Alastair roared, and Dean moved over to the right lane. His heart started to gallop as the old Ford switched lanes as well, separated from Dean by two cars. 

They were hard to make out, but Dean was certain that Gabriel was driving because it was definitely Castiel in the passenger seat. Dean wished there was a way that he could signal to Cas that he knew he was there.

Dean flipped his directional long before he needed it, just to give Cas a heads up, stomach full of nerves when the truck slotted in behind. 

Following the signs for the supercenter, Dean cleared his throat. 

"How are you gonna steal a car if you're holding a gun on us?" Dean framed the question, casually. 

Alastair smirked as he fumbled out another two pills and dry swallowed them, water bottles from McDonald's long gone.

"I'm not gonna steal it, you are. You're gonna hotwire the engine."

 _What is this, 1975?_ "I don't know how to do that!" 

Of course, Dean did, but Alastair didn't need to know that.

"Plus, it's kinda hard to be inconspicuous when you're handcuffed to someone else," Dean said, lifting the hand attached to Jack's and giving it a little shake. He supposed he should feel grateful; better to be held hostage by the _world's dumbest_ thug than someone with a full deck and a workable plan.

"Not to mention, finding a car old enough to even be hotwired might prove to be difficult," Jack piped up. "It'd be easier to steal this Impala than any of the cars we see these days," he continued, matter-of-factly, and Dean couldn't help the small, offended noise he made. 

"She's a classic," Dean defended, and Jack's lip twitched in a way that made Dean think of Cas. "But he's right. Any car is easy to get into, but this ain't the movies where you cross the wires, and magic happens. Everything is computerized now."

Alastair didn't answer, and Dean rolled his eyes, taking the left hand turn into the Walmart parking lot. When he checked his mirror again, Dean's heart plummeted. The truck was gone. Had he just imagined it? No, he couldn't have, he _knew_ that truck. Dean had to fight himself from scanning the parking lot.

"Park near the back."

Dean circled around _Automotive_ and headed toward the end of the first row of cars, sliding next to an SUV and the curb. Alastair was twitchy, and Dean counted that as very good for him. There was no way this could end well for Alistair, no matter what his drug-addled brain was telling him. It was in the middle of the day, in a crowded parking lot, with Dean's gun carrying-detective husband and his partner hiding somewhere in a sea of soccer mom vans and pick up trucks.

Dean knew this was the end of the road for Alistair. Keyed up and jittery and hopped up on God knows what, this ended the minute they stepped out of the car. Dean had been afraid. Afraid for Jack and the threat of bullets, but the further they went along, the more unstable Alistair became. Mentally and physically.

This could be Dean's chance to get the upper hand before his husband wound up in a stand-off with a juiced-up psychopath.

Jack swiveled his head around. "So. What's the easiest to break into?"

Dean scanned the parking lot. Not like there weren't some good choices. There were a few jeeps, most basic models didn't have security prevention systems. Hondas were the worst; between forty to fifty thousand of those babies were stolen every year. All you needed was a ground down key and to know where the unlock switch was. 

"Getting into any car is fairly easy, but actually starting it is a whole other thing, especially in these newer vehicles," Dean said, mockingly, eyes darting around the lot, anxiously for another glimpse of Cas.

"We're at Walmart," Alistair sneered. "I don't doubt we could find something I could talk you through. "

"Maybe that old Ford?" Jack suggested innocently, nudging Dean's knee with his own. 

Dean's heart galloped in his chest. Across the lot and five rows down, sandwiched between a large minivan and a GMC sat the gold truck. It was empty.

"Hmm, maybe," Alistair mumbled. "Maybe." 

Dean furtively searched the lot, spotting no sign of his husband or Gabriel, but Dean knew that didn't mean anything. Castiel was a sneaky fucker. He'd lost track of how many times he'd threatened to get his husband a bell. 

"Hey, nervous nelly," Alistair suddenly barked, and Dean jerked his gaze from the parking lot to the hand in his face holding a key. "Quit spacing out. Uncuff yourself, then cuff him to the wheel." Dean rolled his eyes, biting back the retort that maybe he wouldn't space out if he didn't have a knot the size of Texas on his forehead.

Dean eyed the key, imagining many scenarios at once. Still, the gun pressed to Jack's temple kept him from acting on any of them. Dean steadied his hand and looked Jack in the eye.

"It's gonna be okay, kid," Dean looked Jack in his eyes, hoping he conveyed confidence with his look.

After some awkward finagling, Dean managed to release the cuff from his own wrist, then reluctantly attached it to the steering wheel. Dean was allowed one second to rub at the tender skin rubbed raw from the cuff, before Alistair demanded the keys to the car, pocketing them.

"Get out of the car," Alistair instructed, gun cocked and still aimed at Jack. Alistair shifted, using his free hand to open the passenger side door, using his leg to kick it wider, so the weight wouldn't have it crashing back. "Walk around the front, hands out where I can see them, and come and stand in front of me."

Dean didn't dare look around, knowing if he saw Castiel or Gabriel, he might not be able to school his face in time. The bright sunlight made Dean flinch, and his hand came up automatically to shield his eyes. He felt nauseous, stomach-churning as a wave of dizziness almost had him stumbling against the hood of the car. Refusing to throw up, Dean forced his legs to move and trudged across the asphalt, boot-clad feet feeling heavy and awkward.

Dean maneuvered around the door, and Alistair rose, gun pressed into Dean's chest. He grabbed Dean's shoulder, jerking him sideways so Alistair could jam the muzzle into Dean's ribs. Dean sucked in a breath at the pressure, burgers waging war in his stomach. 

Alistair kicked the door closed, and Dean envisioned jamming his elbow, hard into Alistair's gut. Still, it was like he was walking through syrup, and he couldn't get his limbs to cooperate. _Huh, maybe I do have a concussion_ , he thought to himself, distantly.

"Quit stumbling," Alistair hissed in his ear as they began to walk through the rows of cars, skating empty carriages with their sale flyers stuck in the slats and flapping in the breeze. 

They were halfway to the truck when Gabriel slipped from between a cargo van and a Trailblazer. His eyes raked over Dean, but his hands held steady, his own gun aimed at Alistair's chest. Dean felt himself being jerked again, as Alistair used him as a shield.

"Ah-ah-ah," Alistair taunted. "If you think I won't shoot him then you underestimate me," his hot breath, moist and rancid, rasped against Dean's cheeks, and again, he felt the urge to vomit. So focused on his breathing, Dean didn't even hear the cocking of another gun.

"And you underestimate how quickly I will put this bullet in your brain if you don't release my husband." 

A euphoric feeling of relief overtook Dean's body as Castiel growled from behind him, voice sandpaper rough and unforgiving. He started to shake with tremors, vaguely aware of Gabriel reading Alistair his rights. Dean couldn't help it; he bent over and vomited quite spectacularly.

"Gross," he panted, bent at the waist as Castiel's hand ran up and down Dean's back, soothingly. When he righted himself, however, the world went sideways, and Dean's vision began to go black around the edges, foggy, but he could see Castiel's stormy blue eyes and his name being called frantically.

"Dean! Stay with me, Dean." Castiel begged, and Dean fought to stay conscience at the panic in Cas' voice. "Gabriel, call an ambulance."

Dean didn't fight when Castiel urged him down to the ground, leaning him up against the closest car's side.

"Already did, locals on their way too, for transport."

"M'glad you lojacked, me Cas," Dean managed to slur, wincing at the sound of sirens piercing the air. Castiel laughed above him, a relieved, wet sound that made everything right in Dean's world.

"Me too, sweetheart."


	11. Chapter 11

The small crowd that had gathered at the sound of sirens and the cuffed man screaming on the ground had finally been dispersed. _You're married to a cop?_ Alistair had wailed with all the bitterness of a Scoobydoo villain. Castiel half expected him to follow it up with a, _and I would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for you meddling kids_. 

"I'm not getting in an ambulance," Dean's tone was obstinate, and somehow, it was still the most beautiful thing in the world to Castiel's ears. He was reasonably sure he could listen to Dean wax poetic about the latest Doctor Sexy MD gossip for the next three days and look nothing but besotted.

"Oh, I beg to differ," Castiel challenged his husband, crouching next to Dean and pushing his hair back gently to examine his head wound. "What happened here?"

"Asshole hit me with his gun during a temper tantrum."

Castiel's breath hitched at the casually spoken words, anger flaring up anew at the man currently being transported to Angel Valley Regional Correctional facility to await arraignment. 

"Where's Jack?" Dean craned his neck and Castiel grasped Dean's chin, turning him back to face him.

"Jack's fine, He's with Gabriel," Castiel searched Dean's green and gold gaze, checking for a concussion, noting with relief that his pupils didn't appear dilated. 

"You scared the shit out of me, you know that?" Castiel said, rougher than he intended, and he nearly lost it at the soft look he received at his words. Dean reached out and tugged Cas in, and he let himself be held, clutching back just as hard as he buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck.

It had been both a relief and an anguish to be following Dean, the welcoming shine of the recently waxed Impala gleaming at him like a becon in the afternoon sun.Knowing his husband was in that car had been the only thing keeping him from going insane. He knew that come hell or high water, his love would be in his arms once more and that he’d get to see Dean’s heart-stopping smile again

He shuddered a bit at the surrealness of it all, pulling Dean even closer.

"I'm sorry. But I knew you'd come for me. I had to take a chance, Cas, he was gonna take the kid. I couldn't let him go alone."

"So, you offered yourself up as the getaway driver?" Castiel asked dryly, reluctantly pulling back, and Dean shrugged, with a quick grin.

"I knew you'd be able to track me in the Impala. Though, I gotta admit, when Sammy's truck disappeared from behind me, I got a little nervous," Dean chuckled, and Castiel shook his head, hands still grasping Dean's forearms.

"Gabe and I came in through the second entrance. We didn't want to draw attention by following right after you." Castiel and Gabriel had watched Dean park and quickly had as well, quietly slipping out of the truck and each taking a position in the parking lot. 

Castiel didn’t want to examine too closely how his finger had itched on the trigger when Alistair had threatened his husband. Castiel couldn't help but think had there not been any witnesses, he wouldn't have hesitated to pull it.

"Dean-o, the ambulance is here," Gabriel bellowed, from where he sat on the sidewalk with Jack. Castiel watched his partner pat the kid on the shoulder before he jogged over to the ambulance, pointing the medics in his and Dean's direction.

"Come on, love. Let's get you checked out."

Much to Dean's chagrin, both he and Jack were transported to the hospital to be examined, despite vocal protests.

"It's procedure," Castiel said when Dean griped about it.

"I just wanna go home, Cas. I'm already pissed we have to cancel our vacation."

Castiel stroked Dean's cheek, thumbing at his pouting lip in the exam room.

"It's not canceled, just postponed."

Dean let himself be looked over. After promising to stay hydrated and rest easy for a few days, he was released into Castiel's custody.

"My brother's girlfriend is a nurse, I will ask her to check him out again once we are home," Castiel said, taking the list of do's and don'ts from the doctor's hand.

Jack and Gabriel were already in the waiting room when Castiel and Dean came out. Cas smiled fondly when Jack barreled into Dean, causing his husband to grunt and roll his eyes.

" _Oof_. You okay, kid?"

"Yes. I think so. Thank you for saving me, Mr. Winchester," Jack said solemnly, and Dean ruffled his hair.

"I didn't save you, Jack, I just bought us some time. Gotta admit, does my heart good knowing that asshat isn't getting any of your mom's hidden money."

"There is no hidden money," Jack said, and Castiel caught Gabriel's eye, seeing him nod, as this was obviously not news to his partner.

"You made it up?" Dean's brows rose in surprise.

"I knew he'd never believe me if I said there wasn't, and I wasn't technically lying. There's no money or treasure at my mom's cabin, but there are things important to me," Jack shrugged, self-consciously. "A box of home movies, some pictures. I haven't been able to get them since moving in with Jody and Donna... What's going to happen to me now?" Jack's eyes were wide and innocent, and Castiel felt his heart squeeze painfully at the thought of everything this boy had been through, and everything he yet have to face. 

"We'll figure it out, Jack, I promise," Dean said, answering for Castiel and Gabriel, slinging an arm around the boy as they headed towards the exit.

Castiel had to stop Jody and Donna from flying out, insisting it wasn't necessary. Jack would travel back in the truck with Gabe, and Castiel and Dean would take the Impala. For once, Dean hadn’t argued about not taking the first shift. Castiel could only imagine how being forced to drive hours on end with a gun to his head had messed with his husband.

They cruised down the highway, both lost in thought, the grip of their fingers laced together almost painful, but neither Dean nor Cas were willing to loosen their hold. They would have to stop for the night, despite Dean's protests to the contrary. Dean was exhausted from his ordeal, and Cas wouldn't even consider letting him behind the wheel before he’d had some proper sleep.

When they passed into New York, Dean grudgingly used Castiel's phone to find them a hotel.

"Fine. But I'm getting something nice. With a jacuzzi."

Castiel chuckled. "Anything you want, sweetheart. And I promise you can drive us the rest of the way home tomorrow."

When Castiel's cell began to ring in Dean's hand, he glanced down at the screen.

"It's Jody, babe," Dean said, and Castiel reluctantly let go of Dean's hand to take the call.

"Sheriff?"

"Hey there, Castiel. I'm sorry to interrupt you on your way home."

"It's alright, Jody," Castiel said, nodding at Dean when he gestured to take the next exit. "We are just about to stop for the night."

"Well, I thought you'd like to know that Alistair is dead. He went into cardiac arrest mid-transport."

Castiel swallowed harshly, feeling a mixture of perverse pleasure at the man getting what he deserved and disappointment at not seeing him brought to justice in a court of law.

"That's not surprising. Dean did say he was popping pills like tic tacs," Castiel covered the phone when his husband cocked his head in question, whispering, "Alistair is dead."

"Good," Dean muttered, and Cas wanted so badly to kiss the scowl off of his face.

Instead, Castiel turned his focus back to the phone call, pulling into the rest area right off the exit.

"Yeah, so a mixture of Methamphetamine and opium."

"In pill form?" Castiel asked with raised brows. "That's expensive. Where the hell was he getting the means for that?"

"Friends in low places, I guess. They'll be an investigation. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. And tell you that with Alistair dead, I don't see why we can't wait until after your trip to close out the case. Maybe swap out your tickets for a Tuesday flight?"

Castiel glanced at Dean and considered. "We'll see." Non-refundable trip or not, his husband might need the familiarity of home right now. "I'll talk to Dean about it and let you know. What are you going to do about Jack?"

"Same as we have been. Jack's our family now, I have no intention of letting him go anywhere until he's eighteen and gives me no choice," Jody said with a laugh, and Castiel smiled.

"I'm glad. Dean will be too."

"Donna and I promised we'd take him to his mother's cabin this summer— well, technically now it's his cabin— so he can get his things and decide what he wants to do with the place. We're hoping he decides to keep it. The boy should have a piece of his mother, you know?"

Castiel hummed in agreement. Castiel noticed Dean fidgeting beside him and quickly finished his call. He swiped back to the address Dean had set on the GPS, noting that the Hilton Dean booked them at was only fifteen minutes away. Then he checked out the price.

"$300 a night?" Castiel said, hiding his grin at Dean's pout.

"I'm supposed to be on my way to Bali tomorrow, Cas. Let me have my suite."

"Yes, about that…"

* * *

As soon as Castiel told Dean they had the option not to cancel, he was all over it. Castiel suspected that Dean had something planned. He was so adamant about it. If there was any way they could have made it to the airport on time Monday morning, he would have wanted to leave then. But there was no way, not to mention the fact that all of their luggage was at home, with last-minute things still to be packed.

When they checked into the hotel, Dean asked where the gift shop was.

"We've been in these clothes since Saturday morning, I'm sure they have something we can change into," Dean said as they walked through the elegant lobby. They wound up buying a couple of tee-shirts and pairs of sweatpants to sleep in and ride home in in the morning.

"Eighty dollars later," Dean griped as they rode the elevator up to their suite and Castiel huffed out a laugh.

Castiel used the key card to open the door, and Dean let out a whistle.

"Swanky," he said as they walked in.

"Quite," Castiel said as he scoped out the room. A plush blue rug covered a small living room area complete with a navy sectional and wall-mounted flatscreen. A round table in dark-toned wood with two cushioned chairs sat by a window overlooking the pool. The bedroom door was open, featuring a king-sized bed with a thick rose-colored comforter and an ensuite bathroom that Dean ran to check out, whooping when he saw not only the glassed-in shower but the deep tub big enough for three grown adults.

Now that they had stopped for the night, the whole ordeal appeared to catch up with Castiel. He felt shaky, and his eyes kept raking over Dean as if he were going to disappear, even though he'd spent the past ten hours driving with his hand clenched tightly in his own.

"I'm starving. You think room service is still available?" Dean's words shook Castiel out of his musings, and he cleared his throat.

"I believe so. Why don't you go shower off the road, and I'll order us something?"

"Good idea. I don't wanna soak in that tub until I wash all of the psycho off of me," Dean joked half-heartedly.

When Dean went to start the shower, Castiel called down to order them each a burger and fries, and a couple of bottles of water. Then he contacted the airport and was lucky enough to swap out their Monday morning seats for an afternoon flight on Tuesday with only a small convenience fee. Castiel had just hung up with the resort in Bali, having explained the unique situation they had found themselves in when Dean turned off the shower. He padded out of the bathroom in a complimentary bathrobe that Cas knew would be coming home with them, steam billowing out behind him.

"I called the resort and let them know we would be arriving a day later, and they were fine with it."

Dean laughed. "Of course they were, we already paid," he strolled over to Castiel and tipped his chin up with shower-damp fingers. For a moment, Dean's eyes seemed to search Castiel's for something, before leaning in for a soft kiss. Castiel forced himself to step back, fearing that he would break if he let it go further.

"Room service should be here any minute. I'm going to take a shower now."

"Okay," Dean said, tilting his head to study him some more. "You okay, Cas?" Dean's voice concerned, and Castiel pasted on a smile.

"Of course, Dean," Castiel said, as steady as he could, "I'll be out in a few minutes."

Castiel went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, stripping off his clothes immediately. He stepped into the shower and turned it to blistering hot. For a moment, he tipped his head down and let the hot spray pummel the back of his neck. It took him a minute to realize that he was trembling, and the water streaking his face was mixed with his tears. One hand came up to brace the slick tile in front of him, the other covered his mouth to muffle his sobs.

This was ridiculous. Dean was okay. He was alive and beautiful, and only one room away, Castiel didn't know what was wrong with him. He couldn't stop crying, shoulders shaking with the heft of his tears. Castiel wasn't sure how long he stood under the deluge, crying brokenly, but he jerked to awareness when he felt strong arms wrap around him from behind. Without looking up, he turned in Dean's arms, wrapping his own around Dean's waist and burrowing in.

"Shh. Shh, baby, it's okay. Everything is fine," Dean murmured, pressing his lips to Castiel's sopping hair.

Still, Castiel cried, clutching tighter, as Dean embraced him, holding him together, with soothing whispers barely audible under the water's rush. Eventually, Castiel settled down enough for Dean to turn off the water. Leading him out of the shower, Dean dried Castiel off tenderly even as he let out a few more shuddering breaths.

"I'm sorry," Cas whispered, as Dean helped him into his own robe.

"Naw, baby, don't be sorry. I was kinda wondering when you were gonna let it all out."

"I guess I’m more of a mess than I thought." Castiel said, feeling sheepish about his emotional display, but the look on Dean's face was full of nothing but love.

"You think I wouldn't be a basket case if it were the other way around? Come on, Cas, give yourself a break."

Castiel's fingers reached up, feathering lightly along the cut on Dean's head. He hadn't needed stitches, thankfully, and the swelling had gone down, fading into a purplish-yellow bruise. In a few days, it would be barely noticeable.

"How's your head feel?"

"Fine. Hard as a rock, as always," Dean teased. "Come on. Let's eat, then try out that hot tub before bed."

The burgers were decent, and Castiel felt better having something in his stomach. They didn't talk about the ordeal during dinner, Dean seeming to sense that Castiel wasn't up to it. He felt a little selfish, though he knew that if Dean needed to talk about it some more, he would. Castiel allowed himself to be drawn back into the bathroom after they ate. Dean gleefully filled up the tub, tossing in the complimentary bath bomb that smelled of eucalyptus.

"Hmm, this is nice," Dean said into Castiel's shoulder, as he lounged back against Dean's chest. "It's not as good as your lemon stuff, but it's still good." 

Castiel hummed in agreement, closing his eyes, with his arms draped over Dean's raised knees. When Dean's hands began trailing up and down Cas' chest, he sighed in contentment and shivering when the pads of Dean's thumbs brushed his nipples. Castiel gloried in the feeling of being surrounded by Dean, soft sighs coming quicker the more his husband played with his body.

Under the frothy water, Dean cupped his sac, fingers sliding up to stroke his plumping cock. Castiel moaned, deep, and Dean kissed along his neck, before nipping at his earlobe.

"Need you inside me," Dean whispered in his ear, hot breath sending little sparks of pleasure through Castiel's body.

"Yes, please," Castiel managed to say when he found his voice, rising from the tub as gracefully as he could, shivering when the cold air hit his body. He held out his hand to Dean, nearly losing his breath at the lust-blown eyes peering up at him, a seductive smile playing about his husband's gorgeous mouth.

They dried off quickly and walked naked into the bedroom.

"Fuck," Castiel said, suddenly, as Dean crawled up onto the bed, lounging on his back, one arm tucked behind his head. 

"S' matter?" Dean asked, lazily stroking his cock and distracting Castiel momentarily. "Cas?"

Castiel shook his head. "Lube."

Dean grinned at him, nodding towards the nightstand. "Thought you saw me grab that when we were downstairs in the gift shop. Were you even paying attention when you paid for everything?"

"Forgive me," Castiel said dryly, as he climbed onto the bed, settling between Dean's bowed legs, splayed open in invitation. "I was a little preoccupied with other things." _Like having you back safe and sound._

Castiel ran his hands up and down Dean's inner thighs, over the barely-there dusting of hair. He smiled when the muscles quivered under his touch, and Cas ducked down to pepper kisses into the heat of his skin. Wordlessly, Dean hooked his arms under his knees, pulling them to his chest, leaving himself open and bare for Cas' greedy gaze.

"So beautiful for me, love," Castiel said, reverently, Dean's dusky pink hole begging for his touch. Castiel traced the furled entrance with his fingers, and Dean whimpered in that way he did when he wanted more. Castiel licked a hot, broad stripe right over Dean's pucker before he circled it slow and wet. Taking his time, Cas worked his tongue inside of Dean's hot channel. With hot, undulating rolls, he had his beloved silently begging with harsh little gasps and jerking hips. Still, Castiel took his time, reveling in the taste of Dean, in the feeling of his fingers tangling in Castiel's hair as he arched in time with the thrusts of Cas' tongue. When he slid a spit-slicked finger in alongside his tongue, Dean groaned, low and deep.

Blindly reaching for the lube Dean had tossed on the bed, Castiel withdrew his fingers, causing Dean to whine in objection.

"Just a second, sweetheart," Castiel promised, his own voice like smokey coals, and tight with want. Now slick with the lubricant, Cas slid two fingers inside as he leaned forward to spear his tongue back inside as he scissored. Unable to keep quiet now, Dean began to let out a litany of _unh unh unh,_ and the sound went straight to Castiel's dick, which was hard and dripping against his thigh. Twisting his fingers, Castiel knew he had hit the magic spot inside of his husband when Dean yanked harshly on Castiel's hair. He chuckled darkly, humming against the pink, puffy rim, the vibrations making Dean writhe underneath him. Castiel sank a third finger into Dean's hole and mercilessly rubbed at his prostate, making him gasp.

"Cas, please. I'm ready, just, _fuck_ , just…" Dean trailed off as Castiel's fingers slipped out, his asshole fluttering, wanting to be filled. Castiel rose up on his knees, inching closer. He knew his chin was slick with spit and lube as he bent down to claim Dean's mouth in a sloppy kiss, tongues sliding together with a wet, filthy sound. His cock, dripping, nudged at Dean's entrance. Castiel leaned back, stroking his dick with lube-covered fingers, groaning at the feeling of his own hand on his shaft.

Dean was a vision before him, legs spread wide, body flushed pink from his chest to his face. Dean's moss green eyes were nearly black with need, plump lips parted, as little puffs of air escaped his lips. God, Castiel loved him so much. Beyond words now, Cas braced a hand on Dean's chest, while the other guided the head of his cock, teasingly dipping in and out of Dean's stretched out hole.

"Son of a bitch, Cas just— _ahhh_ —" Dean cut off on a guttural cry that Castiel echoed when he slid home in one perfect thrust. Dean's arms dropped their hold, falling back onto the mattress, but that was fine. With the practiced ease of someone who knew their lover's body inside and out, Castiel didn't miss a beat; hitching Dean's legs over Cas' forearms, he pulled back and slammed back in, drawing twin grunts of bliss from both of them.

Castiel tipped his head back, eyes slit as he relished in the hot clench of Dean's ass around his cock. Looking down, he moaned, watching himself slide in and out of Dean's body, so grateful he got to have this, so blessed that Dean was here, in Castiel’s arms, and looking up at him with naked love and pure need. Castiel's thrusts came faster now, and Dean's back bowed on an exceptionally well-aimed punch of Cas' hips.

"Kiss me, kiss me, Castiel," Dean gasped, and Castiel was helpless but to obey. Dean's legs dropped to wrap around Cas' waist as he fell forward, caging Dean's head with his arms and ruthlessly taking his mouth in a deep, plundering kiss. Dean's whole body seemed to vibrate beneath Cas, rocking up with every downward push from Castiel. Pulling back far enough to stare at his beloved, Castiel whispered _I love you_ , and Cas knew he didn't imagine the sheen of tears in Dean’s eyes.

"Love you, fuck, love you, Cas," Dean's hands fisted in Castiel's hair as he slammed into Dean with quick snaps of his hips. At just the right angle, a hard rock had a ragged cry escaping Dean's lips as his body locked up in an almost painful grip on Castiel's dick. Looking down, Castiel groaned dark and low as cum spurted from the flushed tip of Dean's cock, coating their stomachs in sticky, white fluid. 

"Fuck. _Fuck_!" There was nothing more erotic than watching Dean come untouched, dick twitching and pulsing white ropes between them. The sight had his own hips stuttering as he buried himself inside of Dean, coming with a roar that the whole floor probably heard, and Castiel couldn't care less.

Panting into the skin of Dean's neck, Castiel felt the heels of Dean's feet slip off of his sweat-damped back, falling open on the mattress. His arms dropped as well as he panted through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"Damn, Cas," Dean finally managed to say, and Castiel's chest rumbled with his laughter, feeling a little lightheaded and floaty. Cock softened now, he slipped out of Dean's body with a wet squelch that had them both groaning.

"Worse part," Dean whined, and Castiel half groaned, half laughed in agreement as he walked on noodle-limp legs to fetch a towel from the bathroom. Dampening it with warm water, he cleaned off his sticky cock, then crawled between Dean's still spread legs to do the same for his stomach and dripping hole. Tossing the towel onto the floor, Castiel settled in next to Dean, allowing himself to be pulled into strong, freckled arms. Dean's legs and arms cuddled him like an octopus. Despite being warm and damp with sweat, Castiel snuggled into the embrace, inhaling sex, musk, and eucalyptus.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean murmured, words muffled by his lips being pressed against Castiel's temple.

"Yes?" Castiel answered, angling his head up, eyes crossing when the motion had Dean kissing the tip of his nose with a grin.

"Thanks for saving me," Dean's tone was drenched in love and sincerity, and Castiel felt his heart trip and stumble at the words.

"Always, Dean. I'll always save you." Castiel promised. 

"And that's why you win all of the best husband awards," Dean said teasingly, and Castiel chuckled before propping up on one arm to stare down at Dean, eyes dark and serious.

"I am my beloved's," Castiel quoted, reverently.

"And my beloved is mine," Dean vowed back, tangling his fingers into Cas' dark, messy hair, before pulling him down into the sweetest kiss.

  
  
The End


End file.
